Primadonna Girl
by sinxical
Summary: Macy Gibson had always been a dreamer of bright lights and the sea - that was, until the Invasion of New York City. Now all she knows is a troubling darkness that refuses to let her go. Taken in and monitored by the Avenger's, Macy struggles with readjusting to a life once lost to her. With the help of an overly optimistic Spider-Friend, Macy remembers who she is. Mutant and Proud.
1. Prologue

**Updated: 18/05/2020**

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**Primadonna Girl**

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_" All I ever wanted was the world_

_I can't help that I need it all "_

Primadonna – Marina and Diamonds

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Prologue

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When Macy dreamed, she dreamed of the ocean.

Her grandmother's Californian beach house has been her favourite place for so long. Her childhood summers were spent there, she treaded extreme amounts of sand into that house—all to her grandmother's chagrin— but not once did Nana ever stop her. Every night she'd fall asleep to the sound of waves as they crashed against the rocks, it's the sound she'd slowly wake to after a dream.

Except for two years now, Macy hasn't dreamed.

The waves of the Pacific are lost to her, her grandmother's house has become a palace of rubble and rotten wood. Instead Macy's plagued with either sleepless nights or an endless darkness where she's always alone… and cold. Surrounded by the ominous pressure of oblivion, a great darkness that spreads further than she can comprehend. These aren't dreams, they're an awareness as her body sleeps but her mind stays awake. As she sleeps she's aware of her body, Macy's become more aware of her body than she ever.

This awareness is why she knows she isn't dead. _That_—and she can feel pain. Her whole body feels like it's still on fire, an invisible flame that doesn't mar but tortures her body beneath the skin. She knows the silent flames are gone, the burning isn't as forceful. But her muscles still ache from their phantom touch, her bones feel brittle and on the verge of breaking. She's been stuck in the darkness for so long, longer than before. Macy knows it's because she almost died… maybe she should have, maybe it would make things easier… maybe she wouldn't hurt anymore.

Slowly she makes it past the fog of pain and her body tenses on instinct. They've moved her… she has never been moved—_ever_. The room feels different. An air drafts through the space, air that's clean and clinical. She can smell antiseptic, not the moist stink of humid air and mould. She's moving out of the darkness, her neurons are moving slowly throughout her—but moving nonetheless. She starts to feel, starts to process that she's lying on a soft bed not a concrete slab or a flimsy medical gurney.

Dread. It's all she can allow herself to feel, anything else will be too much… will possibly break her. She can see the light through her eyelids, everything has become bright red as she braces herself, as she tries to process what she can do—what she _should_ do. It takes a couple of minutes for all her senses to come back to her—but suddenly, without a doubt, she's finally awake.

Part of her wishes the darkness stayed longer. Her wakefulness makes the pain worse, the thrum of technology around her makes the headache splitting. She needs to leave, but running before has always ended badly. So much worse than what it was before—and this new place is so alien to her, she can be anywhere or nowhere all at once. A door opens and she forces herself not to flinch. _Pretend_, she thinks to herself. _Don't let them know you're awake. _

"JARVIS? Any updates?"

The voice is new and a sudden sweat breaks out on her temple. Someone has been in the room with her the whole time. _How had she not known?_

"Yes Doctor Banner, in fact—my data tells me that the subject is awake."

The voice is British, and it outs her so easily.

"Oh," replies Banner.

He isn't a doctor she recognised by voice. Someone new… someone who brings a different skill base than any of the others. Macy panics and it twists her stomach grossly. Her body wakes fully and she can feel the air around her better than she's ever been able to before. It is now or never, one final attempt. Maybe they will kill her for it, she's been ready to die for some time now—she can embrace it, she _will_. Though a part deeper inside of her knows… knows better than anyone, they won't.

She moves into action, eyes open but blinded by the light. _There's so much of it…_ but she barely has the time to think. She throws her hands out and connects with the part of herself she'd been sure they burned out of her the moments before she meant to died—but it remains. A small smouldering of what it was, but enough. It's all that she needs. She screams through the pain of her body—of her mind—and she lets go, lets all that she has left go. It doesn't just extend from her hands like normal, but it comes from her whole body in a rush of energy… a rush of power.

Everything begins to shake.

But not for long.

Her eyes clear enough for her to see. She watches the man's panic, watches as he dives out of the way as numerous objects propell themselves towards him, taking cover behind a desk. But it lasts so little—_such a waste_—as the bed beneath her jerks downwards, and she falls back with it. Before she can push herself back up, metal straps wrap around every inch of her and pins her to the bed, than a sharp pinch to her arm. She looks on instinct—a needle.

A sedative.

She tries to force the constraints open but the sedative works quicker, and she's already too weak.

"Doctor Banner, sir requests that you give a report on Code-Green."

The British voice is distinct and loud, she tries to focus on it as much as she can. But everything is blurring and her focus is wavering.

_"I'm fine!"_ The doctor takes a deep breath to calm himself, "I'm fine. No Code-Green, JARVIS."

Doors opens and footsteps enter.

"Bruce? You alright, buddy?"

"Yeah… yeah. Like I said, I'm fine."

"What the hell just happened?" The new voice asked.

Macy fades in and out, she feels sick and dizzy, and extremely tired.

"What we suspected…"

Silence then another voice speaks coarsely, "Mutant."

Macy tries to scream, tries to run but oblivion was coming for her. She can taste it at the back of her tongue, it makes her stomach churn. More people enter the room, their voices are a murmur of varying octaves as her hearing fades in and out. But a figure suddenly stands above her, all Macy can make out is red and the softly spoken words:

"I'm sorry."

Then, oblivion.

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**Author's Note:**

Another story oopps - but this idea has been following me around for some time now. I will let you all know quickly that it will be a few chapters before we see Peter. These _Age of Ultron_ chapters will really be all about developing Macy's story and initial place. Her connections with particular characters and then Peter, I promise !

**Please leave a review and follow!**


	2. The One with the Dream

**Updated: 20/05/2020**

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**Chapter One**

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The One with the Dream

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**New York City,**

11 August 2015

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There's no process of waking this time. Instead it is a sudden wakefulness, with no moment of lingering. She blacked out, and now she's awake. Macy can tell that she hasn't been moved since waking up the first time. Her arms and legs are still pinned down to the bed they placed her on. The mattress is comfortable but it hasn't taken away any of her pain, trying to use her powers just made it worse. Macy tries to open her eyes and groans, pain stabbing deeply into her brain.

While she might feel clearer… she feels just as bad as before.

"You're awake."

She turns slowly and blanks at what she sees beside her. Macy's grandfather had adored Captain America, their lounge room used to have stacks of old comics and memorabilia—even old newspaper cut outs. Both Pa and Nana passed away before the attack on New York, and the spectacular return of Captain America and the assembling of the Avengers. Macy can remember that day clearly; even though she lived on the other side of the coast, the footage had been terrifying. Any moment, that could be them. Their small family of three had held each other as they watched the live broadcast, they kept holding one another even after the Avengers had won.

The year after New York, she was taken…

And now she's looking at _the_ Captain America, his blue and red uniform stretching tightly across his chest. This is the last thing she thought she'd ever see, she was expecting to see one of her captors. But to see an Avenger in the flesh… her kidnappers spoke about the Avengers often, never anything good and only when they thought she wasn't listening. In fact—she never thought she'd see anyone ever again…

"How do you feel?"

She just stares at him.

It has to be a dream… or a trick. There'd been so many tricks before…

"Kid?" He asks hesitantly.

"W–" She chokes on the hoarseness of her throat, "Where am I?"

"Avenger's Tower. You're safe."

A small part of her nearly scoffs. She finds it hard to believe, Macy hasn't been Sade for the past two years. _But this?_ This is too surreal—too crazy to believe. She came from near-death to this, to supposedly being somewhere safe, and with a man who symbolises patriotism more than maybe the flag itself. And already she's relaxing and she hates it, hates that already she's letting her guard drop and relaxing in his presence, that she already feels safe with him. Macy can't help but feel she's setting herself up for disaster; she's done this before, she's trusted the wrong person before and it always backfires.

But his eyes… they're _so_… kind.

"What's your name?"

His voice is soft and gooey like honey, but Macy bites down on her lip. _Don't tell him_, a voice in her head whispers. _You need to escape_. Her survival instincts are all she's had for so long now. But she's been fighting for so long, she's tried to remain strong but she's splintering. She can feel the cracks in her shield breaking more.

"Hey—"

His voice breaks her from her thoughts.

"You can trust me when I tell you, none of us are going to hurt you. I promise."

_There's been so many promises before. _Macy remembers one in particular, spoken in darkness between the bars of their cells, and when no one was looking they'd whisper one word:

_Together._

Her eyes have drifted downward without her really noticing, subconsciously she knows she's waiting for some kind of punishment. But nothing comes. _Obviously_, she whispers bitterly in her head. But it's hard to not feel the fear. She looks up at her Pa's hero, the man's cerulean eyes are shining with all these nice feelings… earnest… and sympathetic. He's waiting for her to say something and a part of Macy wants to, the girl that's still buried beneath all of the pain and torment… all of the horror…

But she doesn't. She looks away from Captain America and for some reason, his sad sigh cuts deeper than any knife has.

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Tony is tired.

Admittedly, they're all tired. But the months of tracking down Hydra bases have exhausted him, have settled into his bones and remains a stubborn reminder that he—sadly—is older, not as flexible as he was the first time he put on the suit. Not to mention things with Pepper are straining every day, every time the news broadcasts him and the Avengers on another mission, ranging from dangerous to madness. He can't blame Pepper's reluctance to accept it—_this_—the superhero thing.

But he also can't stop.

_The wormhole…_

Tony shudders at the thought. The vision he just saw before Loki's sceptre… The sceptre that's across the room from him, incased in an electromagnetic casing as they scan it, as they try to understand it. Bruce is across from him, looking over a _Stark Tablet_ as he licks his wounds, his muscles obviously tense beneath his lab coat. Usually Tony would poke fun at the almost dangerous situation they'd been almost put in—an almost Code-Green if JARVIS hadn't been on alert.

A mutant…

He's never met a mutant, and part of him—the part that was more obliging of ignorance—has always wondered if they're possibly a scary story told to the masses to keep them scared and cautious. But the girl is in the other room, and albiet she looks like nothing serious, it's not until she opens her eyes and screams that she's frighteningly mutant. Frankly, it could have been worse, JARVIS had concluded she was her injured and weak… _and still she shook the whole damn tower_.

The doors open and Steve walks in, and with his entrance the others magically appear. Natasha from somewhere already in the room, he has no idea where. Clint slings down from the vents, drink in hand that isn't Tony's vitamin smoothie. Thor just strolls through the door a ball of energy, his hammer twirling in hand.

Natasha breaks first.

"What did she say?"

Steve's blond hair is ruffled and he shrugs, with that damn soul crushing hopelessness in his eyes.

"Not a word."

"Shocker," Clint snorts.

Rogers throws Clint an unimpressed look but Thor just looks more confused.

"Who is she? I have not seen any Midgardian possess such power."

Tony thought maybe the God's girlfriend would have told him about the mutants when she gave Thor the rundown on Earth—_guess not_.

"She's a mutant," Bruce answers kindly, the only one to have the patience to do so.

Thor still looks confused and Tony wish he could capture the moment with his phone. It'd make a funny meme or something. _Alas_.

"Enhanced beings but they're born with their abilities, not like our beloved Captain here," Tony grins teasingly at said man before sobering—slightly. "They came out of the closet about what… five decades ago? Government hated it but since they've stayed pretty quiet despite a few instances. Keep to themselves since you know… "

"People want them dead," Natasha finishes.

Tony wasn't going to put it exactly like that… but Natasha isn't wrong and Thor finally seems to understand. But once again he looks uncomfortable, put off with humanity and it makes Tony bristle. It's easy for a god to not understand why they'd be intimidated by such power, a power—mostly—only mutants possess. Tony doesn't agree with all of the mutant slander… but he understands that kind of fear fear. He feels it too— not for mutants, but for something far more sinister. Something just out of grasp.

_The wormhole…_

"I uh… I actually think I figured out who she is."

They all turned to Bruce, he's fiddling nervously with the tablet in his hands. With a few clicks a hologram of a newspaper article appears in front of them. The headline read:

**_MISSING MUTANT GIRL MURDERS FAMILY_**

On the front is a picture of a younger, but strangely different, and yet similar, girl to the one in the room just down his hall. It's a school photo, clearly orchestrated from the stiffness to her shoulders. Except in the photo her hair is brain, rolling past her shoulders in loose waves—a lot different to the short platinum blonde hair she has now. But it's her, the two girls share the same eyes and small button nose. The girl's features no longer have the soft curves of baby fat, she's gaunt and too sickly. Whatever Hydra did to her, it wasn't good.

"Marcella Gibson…" Clint reads aloud.

No one else says a word, just stare at the title and then the happy girl in the photo. Banner scrolls down on his tablet to show another picture; a couple—her parents.

"They never found her," Steve's voice rings with a mixture of sadness and indignation.

"Because Hydra had her."

There's something different to Natasha's tone, and Tony can't help but wonder if it hits close to home. There's only so much they know about her, but none of them are open books. In fact, the whole tone of the room is different. A Petri dish of emotions mixing together. Their empathy of what they all suspect replaces the horror of the news article. Marcella isn't the only person Hydra has sunken their claws into, and if they're still left unchecked, she won't be the last. Tony looks closer at the picture, he's never liked kids. His childhood makes it hard to want to procreate, the everlasting fear of becoming like his father—it's a burden he can't shake. But he can't help but notice how innocent she looks in that picture. Completely different to the girl he'd seen on the security cameras.

It's a face he recognises, to an extent.

Someone who's been broken, because years ago he'd been too. Still is, though he tries to run from it—escape its clutches.

Tony's lost, usually he has some sort of plan, but now? He can't think of what to do—what's right. He looks to his colleagues, a name that doesn't describe the full relationship they have nor its intensity. But Tony can't call them by anything else, it'll break him even more if he dares to admit it to himself.

"What now?"

They don't know either.

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When Captain America left, the room fell into a silence that was worse than she ever experienced before. In a way, Macy knows this isn't exactly true. But this silence whispers hope, and hope is extremely deadly to have when you're a mutant. It's a lesson Macy learned but didn't know until she was taken, until her parents…

_Marcella Gibson first became aware she was a mutant when she was nine years old—early for most whose powers manifest closer to puberty. Her mother took her for last minute Christmas shopping, and the air had been cold and the roads slippery from fresh rain. She found it hard to remember what happened leading to, but her mother was on her phone. Macy remembered that her mother had been angry, she'd spoken in a series of harsh whispers that always made Macy fearful for the coming lecture. But there was no lecture, her mother had grabbed her hand and forced them to cross the road, not turning an eye toward the car that was driving toward them. _

_The horn had been so loud as it pierced through Macy's eardrum, the headlights even more blinding. And as her mother gasped the driver swerved the car straight into the oncoming traffic. They watched in horror as the car smashed into another, t-boning the other vechile and spinning it around before it crashed into a parked car and stopped. Everything seemed to stop around them and Macy remembered the feeling of her mother's hand as it clenched her's too tightly. _

_People moved toward the car, others watched and screamed as the car which swerved emitted a dark smoke. Macy remembers being able to smell the smoke, the taste of fire to be, or maybe even was, on her tongue. _

_"The doors won't open!" Someone screamed. _

_"It's going to blow!" Another._

_Her mother's hand continue to squeeze and Macy had panicked. She watched the smoke grow darker, listened to the screaming people who watched on as the few tried fruitlessly to open the door. No—_no, no, no. _Her mind chanted over and over again, tried to scream it but she couldn't. There was a tension in her head that moved to her whole body, she felt taut and sweaty, her body burning up. The crowd jump back as a flame licked out from the bonnet, the car alight._

_Then the pressure released from her, arm out stretched subconsciously—the doors exploded off their hinges. _

_ The helpers leapt to pull the man out of the car, finally her mother's grip lessened._

_"We need to go."_

…Things became easier, moving things with her mind… it's an extension of herself, something she can't explain beside its technical term: telekinesis. She knew about mutants, kids at her school would tell horror stories of people with skin like crocodiles or people who could light themselves on fire. But neither of her parents are—were—mutant like her… and her mother refused to let herself believe the things that Macy can do.

Her father on the other hand loves it… had.

_Dad…_

It's easy to forget what happened to them when she faced so much pain everyday, as her captors tortured and experimented on her and the others. But now it's silent as she's slowly coming to terms with the fact that no one here is trying to hurt her—yet. This silence, it's intense and it's left her with nothing but her own thoughts. While the pain hasn't disappeared—if it ever will—Macy feels clearer than she has in a long time, and even so she still feels like only a fraction of herself is at full capability. In this silence, Macy can't stop herself from thinking about that night. Even though there wasn't much she'd seen or remembers of it.

They came for her in the early morning, while everyone was asleep. Crept into her parent's room and killed them while they slept. So easy—without any fight or complication. They'd been smart, had planned everything, and when they got to her room she hadn't even known. As she slept they drugged her.

Then she woke up in a cage.

_You could have protected them._

No… she _wishes_ she could have.

Macy closes her eyes and cries.

She's grateful that her tears dry by the time Captain America comes back. It feels weird to keep calling him that in her head, but his name is something she's forgotten. It makes her distinctively aware that she's been gone for a long time, except she doesn't know exactly how long it's been—they never let her know, but its been years. This time he has a glass and a plate in his hands, and her stomach aches for both. It wasn't too long ago that he left, talking to the other Avengers she imagines. The Avengers… Gosh, Macy wants to pinch herself—if only she could move her arms.

"I brought you some food."

He sets it down before her. She stares at it before she looks at him, calculating the chances it might be poisoned.

"Thanks…"

Her voice sounds weird to her own ears. If the captain is surprised, he doesn't show it. Instead he just sits in the seat beside her bed and she just looks back at him blankly.

"Is there—_Oh!_" His eyes flash guiltily towards the constraints. "JARVIS?"

"Of course, Captain."

Macy looks around for the other voice but she can't see anyone, it's just her and Captain America in the room—_So who the hell was it? _A thought sparks alive inside her. _Another mutant?_ Her heart tugs at the possibility. _Was there someone like her here too?_

The restraints lift and she can't help but wish she could see who the mutant is.

_I'm like you_, her mind whispers.

But nothing whispers back.

Slowly she pushes herself up. Her body protests fiercely but she ignores it, she's getting used to ignoring her body's reactions. She looks from the corner of her eye as Captain America fidgets, stopping himself from touching her… from… _helping her_. She's secretly glad, Macy isn't sure she can promise how she might have reacted. Subconsciously she reaches inside of her and pauses. She can feel… a murmur. Not the curling ball of energy that's been a part of her for so long, that thrums at her mental touch. There's a slight ripple, nothing compared to what it should be.

_Rest_.

She needs to heal.

Macy refuses to think of the worst.

She tentatively takes on of the sandwiches. _Peanut butter and jelly_. Strange but Macy inhales it anyway before reaching for the glass—_plastic_—of water, she gulps it down just as greedily.

"Be careful, you don't want to make yourself sick."

_Can't be any worse_, she mutters in her head.

Captain America looks at her funnily for a second before shaking his head. His eyes glance to the door and she feels her body tense; he was expecting someone. She never use to be so observant, but her time with her captors made her paranoid. She quickly learned to read faces, and it helps that the Captain's was so open. It still makes her stomach churn, or maybe it's because she did eat the sandwich too quickly. Either way, she can't help feeling on edge, like she's being watched all over again.

"I…" He starts before sighing.

He looks as lost as she feels.

"I don't want to scare you but we know who you are. _Marcella_."

He emphasises her name, but there's no way he might have predicted how it effects her.

She tries to bite down on her sob but she doesn't make it in time, it wrenches itself out of her and leaves her insides bleeding. Tears stream down her face. She hasn't heard her own name in so long—it was always _subject_, sometimes even _mutant_. But never **Marcella**… never the name her father gave her. His ridiculous love for those fantasy books, some beautiful princess who lived in a water garden filled with flowers. It's a dumb name, but she loves it. Not because it was absurdly different, but because her dad loved the name and he'd been so happy whenever he said it.

"Marcella?"

It's nice to hear it, but god it hurt. She feels like another hole has been ripped inside of her, she's bleeding and if he keeps calling her that, it will never stop.

"Macy," she whimpers, but it sounded more like a plead.

"You prefer Macy?"

_"Yes."_

The name doesn't feel right coming from anyone who isn't her dad.

"Alright, Macy it is then."

Captain America doesn't give her some bullshit smile like someone else might have. Instead he looks grim and serious, like he'll never call her that if that's what she wants. And it is, at least—for now. If the wound ever heals, if it's possible to move past her father's death. She thinks she might see a flash of familiarity somewhere in his eyes, but she writes it off as the light hitting his blue eyes.

"Do you know who I am?" He asks softly.

"Kind of…" she pauses. "You're Captain America. I think I had a History class about you, once."

He winces. "Should I apologise?"

It feels weird to be amused, but she huffs anyway. _How long will this last?_

"I'm sure it wasn't the worst..."

"Right ," he looks back at the door before looking at her. "I understand if you're uncomfortable, but I have two friends who'd really like to make sure you're okay."

When she just looks at him strangely he continues—babbling even.

"They have pretty awesome stuff here, technology that will heal you really fast. Even I still find it hard to believe, we didn't have anything like it when I was your age… But it's safe. It'd take away the pain you're feeling."

He gives her a pointed look, she grimaces at the confirmation of her pain being so obvious to him. She hasn't catalogued her wounds yet, she barely remembers what happened to her before waking up. It was one last experiment. _She'd been so sure she would die_. There's not much she can do in this state, she's weak and her mutation is disturbingly quiet. She needs some kind of help, and surely she can trust Captain America… Otherwise who else is there to trust in the world?

"You can call me Steve. I'd be here the whole time."

It's what breaks her resistance.

"Okay…" she whispers.

She feels smaller than she ever has.

_Steve_ smiles at her and looks back at the door, it seems that that's all the confirmation needed for the two people to enter. One she instantly recognises as the man Banner; he'd been in the room when she…. _reacted_. He doesn't look hurt, in fact he looks kind of sheepish. He gives her a small smile that looks apologetic, and she doesn't understand why. The woman next to him is sleek and Asian, her lab coat sit on her shoulders nicely and she carries herself with a confidence that Macy once had.

Everything about this feels strange to her, but she bites down on voicing it aloud. Her fingers twitch nervously, tapping against the soft hospital blanket beneath her.

"Hi Mar—"

"Macy," Steve interrupts with a pointed look.

She's shocked again. This time by the amount of care he's put into not only respecting that she be called by her nickname, but also making sure other people do too. It's nice and she feels herself softening more, despite her brain screaming to keep her guard up. She knows she should… but she's just so tired. She really wants to believe that Steve is right… that this isn't going from one captor to another.

The woman raises an eyebrow but doesn't look bothered.

"Macy then. I'm Doctor Cho and this is Doctor Banner. We're here to run a medical."

Everything about her is professional, unlike Banner who waves awkwardly at the mention of his name and mutters a humble 'hello'. Like he promised, Steve remains sitting. He doesn't so much as flinch while Banner and Cho set up their equipment around them. When he looks at her, she lets herself take comfort in the blue of his eyes, how easily they reassure that things will be fine.

She closes her eyes and let herself trust, and hopes that maybe they will be.

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Two hours pass but they wait anyway.

A little while ago Steve joined them, saying something about the girl sleeping and they welcomed him easily into their little waiting party. All of them are on edge, Tony finding he can't retreat to his lab like normal, not without knowing what the hell is going on. He's not usually so invested in knowing the wellbeing of someone he doesn't know—hell, sometimes he isn't even invested in the wellbeing of the people he does know. But she's a kid, one that's been at Hydra's mercy for two years. How can he not be intrigued? Especially when Helen Cho and Bruce's medical is more than just a medical—an assessment of sorts. To see if Hydra did anything to her like they have the Maximoff twins.

Thor left an hour ago, something about seeing his girlfriend but the rest of them are here. Steve's quietly writing in his little notebook of things he needs, his face pensive and every so often Tony catches the super soldier looking up anxiously—waiting. Natasha's calm, and Clint is perching by her shoulder as she taps away at some game, giving her feedback every now and then. They're all waiting anxiously and none of them have an answer as to why—or they do, but none of them want to say it out loud. Mutant… it's a curious thing to meet one, confusing but nonetheless interesting. Usually you never meet one, or know that you're meeting one.

There's a line that separates a mutant from enhanced individuals, but realistically there's not much difference between the two; just a name and prejudice.

And as for Marcella Gibson—well they've already scoured through the files at the Sokovian Hydra base, finding absolutely nothing. No mention of her by name—there was an asset mentioned but nothing concrete to pin as her, or Barnes for that matter. Whatever they did to her, or was planing for her, it was either deleted before they could see or was completely off-the-record. Tony's never liked not knowing the answers, not being able to see the full picture of the equation makes him uncomfortable, makes his skin itch. But he can't see the full answer to this one, not clearly.

When Bruce enters the room with Cho, Tony straightens. They all come to attention and watch the flickering emotions on the scientist's face. He looks troubled and it doesn't sit well with Tony.

"Well?" He prompts impatiently.

Bruce looks at him and Tony stops himself from reacting to what he sees on his friend's face. Whatever might be coming, it definitely wasn't looking good.

"Cho's healed her flesh wound, there wasn't a lot."

He's holding back.

"Bruce," Natasha's now standing with her arms crossed.

"It took time… but I looked through the scans and analysed them. I found… there was residue signatures of an energy source used on her. The signatures are faint now but their similarity was obvious."

"The sceptre…" Tony realises.

"So they experimented on her."

Steve's tone is frigid. Tony can't tell if the man's angry at Hydra or at himself. There's no doubt in Tony's mind that a part of Steve blames himself for this; that it's his fault Hydra still exists and not S.H.I.E.L.D's.

"Yes," Bruce answers before stopping, biting down on his cheek. "But there's more."

Tony can see the man's unease, the way his face is starting to turn a sickly pallor.

"Helen and I analysed the extent of her wounds… uh—it's a lot. But I think I know why Hydra had her."

"Why?" Clint asks—he too was now standing, both he and Natasha are deathly alert.

_If the girl's a threat… _

"Okay so I looked—" making eye contact with Steve, "— at the files you and Hill found on the enhanced twins. They're the only two people who survived Strucker's experiments. Right?"

"Right." Steve confirms.

"So what? They got lucky," Clint says but his words come off doubtful.

Tony scoffs as Bruce shook his head.

"No. Human experimentation? You don't just get _lucky._ Something had to be different."

The strings start tying themselves in Tony's head.

"The kid," he trails off.

"Marcella Gibson was last seen two years ago. Hydra's files started cataloguing the Maximoff's two years ago."

"What are you trying to say Bruce?"

Clint's standing protectively close to Natasha, her eyes for once give away how she feels—she looks troubled… sad even.

"Mutants have their powers because they carry what's called the X-Gene, a gene that can be activated any time of their life that mutates their other genes which results in empowering them. Their powers are various and we don't know what exactly differentiates one ability in mutation from another, but they're enhanced in some kind of way."

He's in a tangent but they're all sucked into it. Bruce takes a breath, recentering himself.

"Trauma doesn't go away. The results Helen and I saw, the trauma scarring Gibson's body is evident. I think… I think Hydra used Loki's sceptre and Macy Gibson to make the Maximoff's enhanced. They were trying to recreate the X-Gene."

* * *

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* * *

For the first time in what feels like forever, she's dreaming.

She's in a house—no, an apartment. It's barely decorated, filled with only the essentials. Macy looks over the small kitchenette and for some reason she changes her mind. No, this isn't a small apartment. Rather, it's a small room in a _motel_. Somewhere you stay when you're trying to hide, just like all those spy movies. The whole place screams dingy and dirty, though it's nicer than the cage she's been existing in—but still a shit hole. She's alone… she's not sure how she knows this but she does, and she moves further into the motel room.

The kitchenette and living area are all one small room by the front, and probably only door into this place. She moves into a single hallway, on either side are doors leading into two small bedrooms and at the end of the hall another door. _The bathroom_. She's walking towards the bathroom. She can see the light flickering from beneath the door frame. Macy feels both uneasy and nothing at all, a kind of ease that's both confusing and conflicting. A part of her wants to stop but she can't—won't… she isn't sure.

She opens the door and the bathroom looks exactly like she knows it will. It's as clean as an old hotel bathroom can be. There's dirt that can never be washed away, still in every nook and cranny of the bathroom. There's a bath but she winces when she looks at, the brown tint to the once white plastic is disgusting to say the least.

Macy turns to the small mirror and gasps.

"Wanda?" She whispers.

The girl she sees in the mirror isn't her, but the face of someone she thought she'd never see again. Wanda's eyes turn red and in a sudden shift she's looking at Wanda from behind the mirror, her hands push against the invisible field separating them from each other.

"Macy…" she whispers back confused.

Macy tries to reach for the other girl but before she can she's thrown backwards into oblivion, screaming as her head is pierced with an intense stabbing pain. One that she's never felt before. Then suddenly she's awake, and the pain won't leave. Her whole mind feels like it's being strangled with barbed wire. She's screaming but Macy can still hear Wanda's voice, as clear as day.

_ "You're alive."_

* * *

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* * *

**Author's Note: **

More to come!

**Please leave a review and follow!**


	3. The One Where Macy Goes to a Party

**Updated: 25/05/2020**

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**Chapter Two**

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The One Where Macy Goes to a Party

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* * *

**New York City,**

13 August 2015

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Looking into the mirror, Macy sees a stranger.

It's the first time in… _god_—it's been _so long_ since she used a mirror, and on the other is someone she doesn't recognise. She's not sure there's anything that might have prepared her for the person on the other side of the mirror. Macy wipes the steam off the glass again and looks again. Looking back at her is a person with sickly pale skin, she's lost the Californian glow to her skin she's always had as a kid. The freckles across her nose stick out, so much so she almost mistakenly took them for dirt. But it isn't the pallor to her skin that stands out the most.

It's the terrifying lack of colour to her hair that freaks her out the most.

What was once a brown mixture of caramels and golds is now dead white strands of hair. She twists a clump of hair between her fingers, the fibres resembling the colour of an older woman but not as fickle, surprisingly still healthy. Like Pietro, the sceptre bled the colour from her hair. Gosh, she really doesn't want to cry but her vanity twists inside her stomach. She's lost so much and it feels stupid to cry over hair—she definitely refuses to acknowledge how her hair is cut at jagged and uneven lengths. But it still feels like another thing she's been robbed of. She used to have the face of a happy kid, and now… now all Macy can see are hard lines and hollow cheeks.

Her eyes however are still the same blue as her mother's.

A tiny blessing she guesses.

Two days have pass and Macy is still confused… about literally everything.

Doctor Cho's equipment has healed most of her injuries; the bruises and cuts that covered her body have been replaced with smooth, milky skin, as if nothing ever happened. But Macy still winces when she walks, her bones ache and at random intervals, she has splitting headaches that not even the Rizatriptan Cho prescribed can stop. Every hour she reaches into the special part inside of her. Instead of finding a coil of energy, she finds a wall and with each push she can feel a part of the wall crumble. Since waking up the first time in Avengers Tower, she hasn't been able to use her telekinesis. Her wounds and the day or two before, when she used her power prematurely, have exhausted her. But she can feel herself healing—everything is healing. Except something feels different, what was once something so easily recognisable inside of her is now partially indistinguishable.

And it scares her—that Hydra might have succeeded in whatever they'd been attempting… and she's terrified of whatever that is.

Things after the "dream" have gotten stranger. She woke up screaming, and her head felt like it was on fire from another headache, one so piercing she'd been sure it was splitting her brain in two. Someone entered swiftly after the screaming, she expected Steve but it wasn't him who ran into the room. It was the red head—_Natasha_—who Macy hadn't met until then.

Standing in the enjoining bathroom to her appointed room, Macy can still feel the light touch of Natasha's calloused hands from when they took her face between them.

_"Breath,"_ the woman had whispered.

_Breath_.

A mantra Natasha repeated until the pain went away enough for her to handle. Macy's head cleared and the loud static that has been piercing her mind ebbed away to nothing. She sagged on the medical bed, she'd been close to falling off the thing but Natasha—thankfully—had been there to catch her before she made impact.

_"You're safe, I promise."_

_Together…_

Wincing, Macy moves away from the mirror and into the bedroom—_her_ bedroom. Natasha took her here yesterday, but there was so many floors and hallways that she can't remember where exactly _here_ is. She's been hiding in the room for nearly twenty–four hours now, she's painfully aware that she isn't meant to be here.

Not to mention yesterday was… _intense_…

* * *

_Macy had a mug in her hands, the hot chocolate was too hot to drink yet but it felt good. Nestled between her palms, it warmed her more than the spare sweatshirt Clint Barton—_Hawkeye_—offered her. However the worn hooded sweater was comforting, and ridiculously comfortable. The Avengers, who's names she now knew, were sitting on the couches in their communal lounge, all with serious faces that set Macy on edge. She knew this converstation couldn't be ignored, that they'd already given her a day to recover her bearings. Now they wanted their answers, and Macy wasn't sure she could, or would, refuse them. Her fingers tapped against the ceramic mug, she couldn't meet their eyes—not right away at least. _

_ "We need to know everything that you know Macy," Steve started softly._

_ "What you tell us changes nothing. You're safe here with us," Natasha finished. _

_ She looked at them both briefly before her eyes flickered to the other members, all of whom nodded their heads softly. _

_ She took a sip of her hot chocolate and savoured how it burned her throat._

_ "What do you need to know?" She whispered._

_ There was a small moment of silence as the adults looked at one another, silently communicating to one another like all adults do. She would have found it annoying if she wasn't nervous, if it hadn't felt like her fate being decided._

_ "What happened the night Hydra took you?" Steve asked._

_ Macy trembled, everything inside of her screamed not to say. To speak it aloud would make it real, and a part of her had been hiding the pain for as long as it could. She wasn't sure if she could say it to them, admit to herself the situation she was in now, what she became in one night; an orphan. She looked at them all, each one of them had a similar sensation of understanding. She wasn't sure how she knew other than that she just did… and maybe it was enough for her to be brave._

_ "I don't know much. I went to bed… I woke up in a cage," she swallowed the thickness in her throat. "They drugged me when I was asleep, I guess. I didn't know right away…what they did—killing my parents." The words choked in her throat and for a moment, she thought she wouldn't be able to go on. "But a week later, maybe? They let it slip. I think they wanted to crush any hope I had that someone would look for me. It worked."_

_ "No other family?" Doctor Banner—_Bruce_—asked._

_ "No. My grandparents are dead and both my parents were only children."_

_ "Did Hydra say what they wanted from you?" _

Mutants… weapons not utilised enough.

_ She shuddered._

_ "An army…" She broke off. _

_ No one seemed surprised. _

_ "Enhanced soldiers, what's new?" Tony Stark drawled._

_ Natasha and Steve gave him a disapproving look._

_ "And what about the Maximoff's?" Clint asked. _

_ Macy paused and felt her body recoil. The Maximoff's… their dirt covered faces were ingrained in her memory, the soft curves of their faces and the melodic tone of their European accents, a faint lullaby to her ears. The last thing Macy remembered before she gave into the darkness was Wanda's crying face as the Hydra soldiers pushed Macy's gurney away. _

"Let me help her… please…" Wanda had begged, eyes flickering from red to her natural green.

_ Even though she's come to terms that the Avengers weren't going to hurt her, giving away Wanda and Pietro felt like a betrayal that Macy couldn't fathom. They deserved to be free, to live their lives without being hunted like so many other mutants. Because Hydra had succeeded, hadn't they? They used Macy and the sceptre to make the Maximoff's—and the Maximoff's survived._

_ "I never saw anyone else. They kept me alone."_

_ The lie tasted strange on her tongue but it was done. _

_ They were silent around her and it felt tense. For a moment she tensed, prepared herself for the outcry—readied herself for when they called her a liar. What was she thinking? Of course they would smell a lie as soon as it left her, they probably knew before she even said the words._

_ "I think that's enough for today," Natasha said standing. "Come kid, I'll show you to your room."_

_ Her body relaxed instantaneously._

_ "My tower isn't a bed and breakfast, Romanoff."_

_ "It isn't?" _

_ A few others laughed at the banter but Macy just followed after Natasha, hot chocolate still clasped in her hands. _

_ She thought it would be longer, more gruelling. But Natasha had ended it quickly, Macy could feel Tony's exasperation. They wanted more, there was still so much left unsaid. A lot they didn't know… or maybe they did. Steve knew her name, maybe there was more they knew but were checking her story, if she'd tell the truth. _

_ Walking away from them there was only one thing on her mind._

_ Should she have lied?_

* * *

Even now, she isn't sure if lying was the right thing to do. The Avengers have given her space, they also haven't tried anything fishy; no secret blood tests or experiments—that she knows of at least. They want to know more, she can feel their curiosity but they're staying quiet. It's so strange, so unlike anything she's used to recently. Heck—Macy hates that her perceptions of people have been so tarnished that now—now she has to navigate through the confusion, of which instinct she should follow; the old, where she trusts adults without any doubt, or the new instincts that scream at her to run—to trust no one at all.

She's so caught in her own thoughts, Macy doesn't notice she isn't alone until a throat clears. Macy jumps and is suddenly glad she changed into her clothes, an old training shirt and a-size-too-big sweats, in the bathroom. Perching gracefully on her bed is Natasha, hair perfectly styled and a small smirk on her lips. The Avenger is intimidating, but for the pass two days the redhead has been kind to Macy. She leaves food and water without Macy ever realising she's been in her room at all. However there's no food accompanying Natasha this time, instead there's a dress laying across the end of the bed.

It's something Macy would have died to wear before. A part of her, even now, yearns to try it on, to play with her mother's makeup and make herself look nice. As a young girl, she liked to play dress up. She would wear her mother's jewellery and put clips in her hair. The dress that Natasha's brought with her is a pale pink with dusty pink flowers embroidered into the material. It has a pleated skirt with a very light petticoat stitched into the design for volume. The neckline slightly plunges, but is still surprisingly tasteful.

It's gorgeous, but she hesitates.

"It's not going to bite, you know."

"What's it for?" Macy asks.

Natasha shrugs, "Nothing crazy. Only a party."

"A party? Are you serious?"

"Deadly."

Macy gives Natasha a look, speaking exactly how weird and dumb she thinks this is. Who throws a party and invites _her_ to it?

"Why am I invited to a party?" Macy voices.

"Well—technically you aren't. But the party's here and everyone else is going."

Macy looks at her blankly, "So I'd be gatecrashing the party."

"You'd be my plus one."

Macy crosses her arms and moves away from Natasha, the woman's goddamn smirk is both infuriating and encouraging. Once upon a time she'd die to attend an adult party, especially if she got to wear a dress like that. But it doesn't feel right anymore… but nothing really does.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

Macy opens her mouth with a retort but stops herself, her lips closing together as she chews on her lip. It isn't a good idea because all of it is just too much. She's slowly coming to terms with the fact that she's free from Hydra, safe here in Avengers Tower from whatever might want to hurt her. It doesn't matter that a small part of her is curious about going to the party, that she knows the old Macy would die to be there. She can't—or maybe she just won't—let herself go. When she's not suffering from a headache her thoughts are being tugged in every other direction, demanding that she do one thing or feel some way.

The thing is… these past two days she's felt better than she has in a long time. Being with the Avengers, having JARVIS—who she quickly learned is an AI (and not a mutant)—she not only feels safe but deep down knows she is too. But sometimes, when a plane flies by, the sound of the engine triggers particular memories. She remembers drills and heavy machinery, the weight of another body as it held her down. It contradicts any hope she has at recovering, at getting back to her old life, or some semblance of it at least… if that's still possible…

"Because," Macy sighs. "It… it just wouldn't."

Her excuse is lame. She doesn't know how to say what she wants, let alone have the nerve.

Natasha sighs and stands, Macy's body twitches to move away but she stays put. The Avenger notices but says nothing, she continues to walk until she's in front of Macy and places a comforting hand on Macy's shoulder.

"No one is telling you what to do, or how to be. Come to the party or stay here; it's up to you. Just know you don't have to feel guilty for surviving."

Macy stares down at her hands, uncomfortable with how easily the Avengers can read her. There's a tightness in her throat, that suffocates any kind of response Macy might have given. Instead Natasha doesn't make the uncomfortableness last long. She gives Macy's shoulder another squeeze and leaves the room without a goodbye. Sighing, Macy moves to the bed and throws herself face first into the duvet.

A part of her allows the guilt to bleed into her body.

But another allows the flame of hope to burn.

* * *

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* * *

For the second time that day, Macy stares at herself in the mirror frozen.

She can't believe she's actually doing this. The full length mirror shows a lovely image of a girl. She's wearing a pink dress with tan sandals, and her white hair is pulled back to hide her horrible hair cut. Her face is bare of makeup but her skin looks clean. Her cheeks are rosy from where she pinched them, an old tip of her mum's and the memory hurts. She looks nice, not as nice as she'd like but decent enough. Giving into her own urges, Macy twirls and watches in the mirror as the skirt dances around her legs. She stops and for a moment when she catches herself grinning, it's small but so foreign.

Immediately it drops from her lips.

_What is she doing?_

The music down stairs started an hour ago, and the hum of people talking grows louder with each hour that passes, almost vibrating the entire floor with its bass. She put the dress on thirty minutes ago and since then has drifted to and from the door in contemplation. What Natasha said earlier struck a cord, and Macy hasn't been able to erase it from her thoughts. There's so much of her that still hurts, parts still damaged. But there's a bigger part of her that longs to forget more, a part that demands she have her life back; and it makes her feel so silly.

So she's now standing in the damn dress, but Macy isn't sure she can go downstairs and everyone. But if she doesn't do it now then when will she? Her dad always said it's best to jump into the deep end or you'll never learn how to swim. And she knows how high her chances are of sinking, but she's been stagnant in her misery for the past year and something has to break.

Macy takes one deep breath in and one last look at herself in the mirror. _You've got this, _she whispers in her mind—the smallest vote of confidence ever. Quickly, she closes the bedroom door behind her and rushes for the elevator. If the doors shut behind her it'll be too late for her to change her mind. _You can do this. _The doors close in front of her before she can doubt herself, and as the lift glides down she lets out a rush of nervous air. The ride isn't long, in fact the elevator shoots down with a speed that terries her. When the doors open to the floor dedicated for communal use, Macy's hands are gripping the railing tightly and her eyes widen at the scene that reveals itself to her.

Tony Stark sure doesn't throw a small party. There are at least two hundred people in attendance, mulling around the grand open space of the living room. All of whom are dressed nicely in evening cocktail wear, which definitely explains why the dress she's wearing is so nice. Macy takes a tentative step out of the elevator and finds that she is… actually kind of okay. Intimidated? _Hell yeah_. But does she feel like she's urging on a meltdown? No—not entirely at least. The elevator doors close behind her with a soft ding, but for the first time she doesn't flinch at the surprising noise. She moves slowly into the party, her eyes tracing over all of the faces. There are way more faces that she doesn't recognise, and the closest people to her she recognises are Clint and Thor, both speaking to a woman and man Macy doesn't know.

She takes a step towards them but someone stops her.

"Hey kid, take a walk with me."

There and behold, the host of the party is beside her and linking their arms. Macy is so shocked that she goes along with it, feeling so small next to Tony Stark as he walks them towards the balcony where things look significantly less busy.

"So, how're you settling in?"

"Alright," Macy hesitates. "This place is massive."

"Yeah, yeah—everyone says that but you get used to it."

She nods her head but doesn't say anything—she definitely doesn't ask if she will actually get used to it or not. That's something she doesn't want too think too much about, not now with everything still unsettled. They reach the balcony when Tony breaks the small silence.

"I just wanted to grab you before someone else does. To—you know, go over your cover story."

"Cover story?"

Tony looks at her for the first time since taking her arm, an eyebrow raised.

"It wouldn't be safe introducing you as Marcella Gibson, too many people with conflicting interests."

His brown eyes hold a meaningful look, one she understands and she sighs.

"Who am I?" She whispers.

"Mackenzie Adams, daughter of an employee for Stark Industries who's care has been left with your's truly while they're away on SI business."

Macy raises an eyebrow, "What kind of parent would leave their kid with you?"

"Well, I am Iron Man."

Macy laughs and rolls her eyes. She can pretend to be someone else, in fact it might be easier not being Marcella Gibson for the night… or even a year. Tony drops his arm and pats her shoulder, a strange show of affection that seems so out of character. She wonders if he's just as uncomfortable as her.

"Try and enjoy yourself kid. _Oh_—and the Avengers know to play along, so keep your real identity under wraps."

He's gone like the whirlwind he is.

"Okay…" she mutters after him, watching as he flourishes his way through the room.

Suddenly alone again, Macy looks around until she spots Steve by a billiard table. She knows being confronted by people when she's alone will be harder to deal with than if she's with an Avenger; conversation will naturally just drift back to them. So she weaves her way through people, making sure no one notices her by being as small and swift as possible. She shuffles away quickly whenever she bumps into someone and their cast back to her. The last thing she wants is to answer pestering questions. Thankfully most of the partygoers are too busy partaking in their own conversations and trying to get a glimpse at Thor, that she manages to get to Steve in peace.

He's wearing a navy button up shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Dark slacks cover his legs and a leather belt wrapping around his waist. It's an outfit that reminds her of her own grandfather, that in itself makes Macy screw up her button nose. It's not a completely awful outfit… but old fashioned nonetheless. Next to Steve is a man she's never met before, someone who definitely isn't an Avenger she knows of—not one of the original five. He's wearing a denim jacket with a maroon shirt underneath and a darker shade of denim pants. They're both holding wooden cues, leaning against them but Steve straightens when he notics her.

"Macy."

"Hi."

His friend raises an eyebrow, waiting for an introduction.

"Sam this is Macy, Macy this is Sam—he's a friend of mine."

"So you're the new girl."

Panicking, Macy looks at Steve but he just gives her a warm smile.

"It's okay, Sam's in the trusted circle. He's not going to say anything."

"Not that there's much to tell, pipsqueak."

Her eyes narrow. "Pipsqueak?"

"You heard me."

She can hear the smile in his tone, but his words light a fire in her that died some time ago.

"Yeah—well. At least I'm not Captain America's assistant or whatever."

Steve and Sam both laugh, and Macy tries not to let her lips quirk as well.

"Assistant?"

"She got you there."

Sam turns to Steve. "Whose side are you on?"

Steve shrugs and smiles at her, this time Macy doesn't bother to hide the grin—she smiles right back.

"Alright then. How about I challenge you to a game kid. See how tough you are when I wipe the floor with your tears."

She looks from the table to Sam, the man's dark brows are raised.

"Unless you're a chicken."

"I'm not a chicken!"

"Good," he smirks. "Then we have ourselves a game."

Steve is laughing to himself, it's a nice sound but she doesn't bother to acknowledge it. She takes the cue and faces Sam with a glint in her eyes.

"Hope you like losing Sam the Assistant."

He laughs and says nothing. She watches as he gathers all of the balls, chalking her cue to have something to do. Macy has only played pool a few times in her life, her dad tried desperately to teach her but… admittedly she sucks. But she's determined to at least get in Sam's way as much as she can. Sam breaks and sinks a ball. Going again, Macy tries to find which of her balls will be the easiest to get in.

"Your shot pipsqueak."

Lining up her shot she fumbles the cue and the white ball only clips the ball she wanted, she hisses in annoyance.

"Well, well, well—big talk, little game."

Sam laughs and has his go, hitting his ball close to a pocket but not quite landing it. Macy moves around the table, plotting her next move when an idea comes to her. Lining up her closest ball, Macy reaches into her and feels that small coil of power. It's stronger and she grins to herself. Hitting the ball with her cue, she moves the ball with a small thought and lands it in a pocket.

"Beginners luck," Sam huffs.

Ball after ball she sinks them all. The entire time Sam watches on speechless, until she finally pockets the black ball and it fires him up. Despite his rantings, Macy isn't sure when the last time she laughed so hard.

* * *

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* * *

After beating Sam in a few rounds of pool, or cheating according to him:

_"I thought you said pool takes talent."_

_"Talent — not cheating."_

_"But talent's talent Sam."_

The party has finally settled own.

Macy's glad she decided to come downstairs in the end. For once, she hasn't thought about the last two years and Hydra. Instead she's let herself be swept up by the party, and despite herself having fun. The party, though it had it lapses in entertainment for a teenage girl, was still fun. She'd been glad to do something — anything at all. And despite the insulting banter, Sam was good company in the times that Steve had to leave. In fact, it's only now as she's sitting by herself in a quiet corner that she bothers to let herself realise that Sam's teasing had probably been intentional. It distracted her from the lulls in her mind, kept her from the places that are still scarred. When she sees him next, she's going to punch him.

"The dress looks nice."

Macy jerks in her sit and clutches as her heart. _Gosh_, she's been waiting for Natasha all night and still she manages to creep up on her.

"So do you."

Natasha grins, it looks more like some kind of sly smirk to Macy—but a very tiny one at that. Everything about the redhead is reserved, something Macy's always struggled with. She's always carried her emotions on her sleeve, and while they're subdued now, she can still feel them simmering under the surface. Natasha stays standing, and suddenly Macy realises that most of the guests have or are leaving the tower. A tiny part of her is sad to see it all end but another is glad to have a break. Admittedly, she's tired. Her body still aches and the party made the aching settle deeper into her bones. Tonight has been nice, a little escape from her current reality but a taste of something that, maybe one day, will come; a small taste of hope.

"Was it as terrible as you thought it would be?"

Macy presses her lips together.

"I was right."

"You're not exactly humble, are you?" Macy retorts.

"Not really." Natasha pushes a strand of hair behind her ear before taking a step backwards, inclining her head in a soft movement. "Come. It's not bed time yet."

Curious and slightly skeptical, she follows after Natasha. Macy can't help herself from watching how the woman carries herself. Natasha's every step is careful and elegant, like she's dancing across the floor. Macy tries to replicate the woman's steps, moving a foot at a time but stumbles over her flats. Natasha's shoulders twitch, she's laughing and Macy scowls behind the woman's back.

The rest of the Avengers are sitting on couches, drinking beers and whatever alcohol suits them. Natasha sits down on an empty lounge and Macy quietly perchs herself next to the redhead. She watches as Clint leans across the space of their sofas, passing Natasha a bottle of beer that she takes with a small smile—a real one this time. Looking down at her glass of water, she realises dully that she is _that kid_ at the party. The one that isn't really supposed to be there but is anyway. It dampens the mood a little, the buzz that's already dying fizzles out quicker.

Looking at who is left in the room, everyone talking in small groups. It's a sight so different to what she's grown used to. Macy closes her eyes and remembers her cage. The bars weren't an old steal that one would expect. Their cages were all reinforced steel, metal so thick that even if she could—which she couldn't—it was unbendable. The cold touch of the metal bars are imprinted in her mind, the past two nights in Avengers Tower she's woken to the feel of cold steel on her hands. She saw those bars every day for two years, she knows every scratch on their surface, every speck of dirt.

Through those bars she held the hands of Wanda Maximoff.

_"We survive. Together."_

_"Together."_

For a small moment she allows herself to wonder where the Maximoff's are, where they might have gone after the Avengers sacked the Hydra base. Finally free from the experimentations. They can live their life, the thought makes her happy—the sad kind, but happy.

Fingers brush against her hand and she flinches, so deep in a memory she briefly forgot where she is and who she's with. Natasha's face give nothing away, she isn't even looking at Macy. But she's there, drawing Macy from a memory that threatened to take her deeper, into a dark place that's terrifying. Macy shivers and takes a deep breath in. Reaching inside of her, she mentally pushes the memories away. Surprisingly they give away with ease, the strands of darkness burn away with just one mental thought.

Reaching back, Macy squeezes Natasha's thumb.

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**Author's Note:**

Thank you all so much for the support given already! It makes me so happy seeing the follow count increase. I apologise that these chapters are a bit slow to start off, but from now on there will be Ultron action and then after that we get to the good stuff ;)

I will let you all know that this story will shift in canon at times, with the introduction of mutants into the mcu canon there will be things that are different... and then there are also mcu decisions (not many!) that I personally wasn't a fan of. Example: **Bruce and Natasha will not be canon in this story. **This is mainly because I have other plans for them, in particular for the love of my life; Nat.

Please keep following and send in some reviews! Thank you!

**Reviews:**

**Guest:** Here is another Update! Hope you enjoy it! Thank you also!

**KaiAlways: **Hugs are always accepted! Thank you for your kind words!


	4. The One with the Party Crasher

**Updated: 28/05/2020**

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**Chapter Three**

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The One with the Party Crasher

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**New York City,**

13 August 2015

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"But it's a trick," Clint says while twirling a drumstick between his fingers.

"No, no—it's much more than that," Thor laughs.

Macy watches with eager eyes as the two Avengers speak, Natasha sitting beside her with a soft smirk.

"Watch, Clint will do something dumb," she whispers in Macy ear and the girl becomes more excited.

They're clustered in a circle on various sofas and for the past two hours have been hanging out and eating Chinese take away. The adults have kept drinking, and Macy's enjoying as their intoxication slowly starts sinking in.

"_Oh_—whosever be he worthy shall haveth the power," Clint mocks. "Whatever, man! It's a trick."

"Well please, be my guest."

"Come on," Tony encourages, just as excited as Macy.

"Really?"

"Yeah you have to do it now," Macy interjects coyly.

Natasha offers her a fist and Macy bump it with her own unconsciously.

This is going to be hilarious and she's eager to watch what will happen when Clint tries to lift the hammer. Everyone knows that Thor's hammer can only be lifted by the man himself, but she's intrigued on what it looks like when someone tries. Will an electric shock run through someone's hand when they try to lift it? She doubts it, but she's still curious. Picking at her fried rice and honey chicken, she's on the edge of her seat waiting as Clint stands up.

"Oh this is going to be beautiful."

"Clint, you've had a tough week. We won't hold it against you if you can't get it up."

Tony and Rhodey—James Rhodes, who she met sometime during the night—chortle together as Clint pockets his drumsticks. From the corner of her eye she catches Steve directing a scowl at Tony before inching his head toward Macy in warning. She finds it funny that Steve's trying to protect her sensitivities, like the internet doesn't exist.

"You know I've seen this before, right?" Clint says to Thor before taking grip.

Thor just looks smug, completely unbothered by Clint and comfortable with his knowledge.

Macy stops mid-honey chicken, holding her breath.

Clint grunts as he tries to lift it—but nothing happens.

"I still don't know how you do it," he laughs through his struggle, pulling away from the hammer.

A little rush of disappointment fills her. There's no great spectacle, no booming words of warning. Just an old man trying to lift some hammer. Macy slouches back into the lounge chair and eats her chicken.

"Smell the silent judgement?" Tony teases.

"Please, Stark; by all means."

Then Tony stands and her excitement begins all over again.

"Never one to shrink from an honest challenge"

"Get after it," Clint rolls his eyes.

The two men brush shoulders; Clint moves to sit, and Tony going to the hammer.

"It's physics."

"Physics," Bruce laughs, his cheeks a soft red.

Tony loops his hand through the strap at the end of the handle and braces a leg against the coffee table. Everyone in their small posse watches, the energy bubbling with eagerness to see what will happen. The atmosphere is contagious and Macy's eyes flicker from person to person, trying to take everything in. The only person who doesn't care is Thor, he's resting calmly in his seat with no care in the world.

"Right, so—if I lift it, I then rule Asgard?"

"Yes of course," Thor replies.

"I will be re-instituting _prima nocta_."

"What's _prima nocta_?" Macy whispers to Natasha.

"Ice cream," she quips back.

Macy pulls a face and narrows her eyes on Natasha. "You're lying."

Natasha looks to Macy with a twinkle in her green eyes. Slumping back into the seat, Macy crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. She'll look it up later.

Tony pulls, and like Clint, he grunts from the effort of straining. The hammer doesn't so much as budge.

Tony is quick to drop the strap and back away.

"I'll be right back."

When he comes back he has an Iron Man gauntlet on his hand. But still, even with the repulsers firing, the hammer doesn't budge at all. Macy can't hold herself back from giggling when he enlists Rhodey's help.

"Are you even pulling?"

"Are you on my team?"

"Just represent. Pull."

"Alright, let's go."

From there it turns into a competition. Bruce tries but instead makes a joke of it, pretending to nearly Hulk out. The joke pretty much falls flat, but Natasha gives the guy a sympathetic grimace. It's nice though, that carelessness and cheer can still be found in a group of adults whose literal job is saving the world from aliens and bad people. She find her dreams of nothingness scary, she can only imagine the horrors each and every one of them have seen. She remembers the attack on New York, but she rewatched the footage again on a _Stark Tablet_ Natasha gave to her. The footage itself is horrifying, but being there on the ground?

There's a small cheer that Macy joins when she sees Steve stand up.

"Go ahead, Steve. No pressure," Tony mutters sarcastically from his own defeat.

"Well no one else has lifted it," Macy retorts only to laugh when Tony flips her the bird.

Steve makes the effort of rolling up his sleeves before placing both hands on the hammer's handle.

"Come on, Cap," Clint cheers.

He tries twice to lift it, but nothing. Admitting defeat gracefully he backs away to Thor's delight, who to Macy looks a little bit too happy at Steve's defeat.

"Nothing," the god laughs.

Suddenly all heads turn to her and Natasha, all the laughter drying in Macy's throat. Tony clears his throat and everyone's eyes turn expectant.

"Kid, want to have a shot?" Tony asks.

Macy blanks for a moment.

The past three days have been the strangest days she's ever experienced. There's been the weird sense of both being a guest of the tower but also being misplaced. She doesn't really belong with them, she's a kid and they're all adults doing a job. But no one is telling her she has to leave, nor was there an expectation for her to go. She's like them all in the sense that she doesn't really have any other place to call home—there isn't anywhere else she belongs. The Avengers and their respective friends are a weird family of misfits, but they're a family still. Macy isn't sure if she'll ever be a part of it, but for the moment right then, she feels like she belongs just a little.

And why the hell shouldn't she try lifting the goddamn thing?

"Yeah—I guess I should show you old farts how it's done."

A bunch of shouts and laughs meet her comment and she giggles as she moves toward the hammer. The closer she gets the easier it is for her to feel it. She can sense the weight of it, the power it projects. There's no way she'll be able to lift that thing, by hand or mind. _But…_

She feels her healing power, it thrums through her veins. She lifts her hand and watches as the table shakes. Everyone is silent and as she starts to raise the table with the hammer still in place everyone starts speaking over each other again.

"What! Not fair!"

"That's cheating! That's cheating!" Tony calls out.

Macy grins and places the coffee table back down with a heavy thud. The work out on her abilities feels good, to use them makes them feel stronger again. She's never been able to do something like it after being sick or tired, but it hadn't been as hard as she originally thought. Being mentally drained always affects whether she's able to use her abilities or not. But she feels rather… energised… rejuvenated.

"Alright settle down," Steve chastises and the hum settles.

"She cheated," Tony whines—always needing the last word.

"The rules were that it had to be lifted, no one said anything about using hands _physically_."

"Man, I'd hate to play _Monopoly_ with her," Clint mutters.

She sticks her tongue out at Tony as she walks by to her seat, he mouths "cheater" on her way.

"And, Natasha?" Bruce asks.

Macy plops herself down on her seat as Natasha coils away.

"Oh, no. no. That's not a question I need answered."

"All deference to the Man Who Wouldn't Be King, but it's rigged," Tony finalises.

"You bet your ass," Clint seconds.

"Steve, he said a bad word," Maria Hill teases.

The man in question sighs and looks accusingly at Tony.

"Did you tell everyone about that?"

Macy laughs with everyone else, but stops suddenly. Goosebumps prickle her skin and a ringing starts in her ears. It's like one of her headaches but worse, there's something beneath all of the static but she can't make it out.

"The handle's imprinted, right? Like a security code. _Whosever is carrying Thor's fingerprints _is, I think, the literal translation."

A pressure starts building on her brain, and the static increasing at a high rate as she tries to focus. But she can't, her eye sight keeps going fuzzy and her ears are only just picking up the conversations happening around her. She probes at the pressure and feels the static lower slightly before increasing. She probes again—desperate for relief—and this time the static goes down an octave. Macy starts pushing down on the pressure harder.

"Yes. It's a very, very interesting theory. I have a simpler one—" Thor lifts the hammer with ease and flips it in the air, "—You're all not worthy."

Macy has lost all focus on what's happening around. She's pushing when the pressure snaps like an elastic band, and all of a sudden the static is gone, the headache no longer piercing so painfully. Everything becomes clearer and foggy at the same time. She's floating in a strange place inside of her mind, a place she's never been before when she hears it.

_There are no strings on me._

Everyone groans their displeasure.

"Who said that?" She asks.

Natasha turns to her confused but a high pitch noise fills the air, and all of them clutch at their ears.

"Worthy," a voice slowly drawls the word.

The same voice she just heard in her head…

They all look to see who it is but it isn't a person. Standing in front of them is a robot, one that looks barely functional with broken parts as it stumbles around. Her eyes widen as she looks at it, a shiver rolling down her spine as she looks at its strange orange eyes.

"No. How could you be worthy? You're all killers."

Macy tenses along with everyone else.

"Stark," Steve says.

"JARVIS?"

"I'm sorry, I was asleep. Or I was a dream."

It's speaking aloud but there are words she can hear, words it isn't speaking but… _thinking_. They're a jumbled mess and she can barely make out any of it except for one line repeating itself:

_There are no strings on me._

Tony mutters something she doesn't hear but hardly cares. Macy slowly stands, keeping close to Natasha as the rest of the Avengers become highly aware of the escalating situation. The static in her mind is gone, and so is the pressure. She feels lighter than she has for the past days, no headaches are riddling her brain. Instead she feels a great depth waiting her for, random burst of painless electricity, begging for her to reach out and touch.

"There was this terrible noise…"

The robot thinks the noise and suddenly Macy can hear it. She flinches and clutches at her head, the loud whirring noise is all she can feel as it completely takes over her senses: throwing her into chaos. She drops to her knees and doesn't notice the bruising pain of the fall. The noise is so high pitched, it rings through her mind and starts piercing every one of her nerves. Her body begins to vibrate from barely suppressed energy. She closes her eyes so tightly that it forces tears to slip pass.

"Macy?" Natasha asks.

Macy knows the noise because _it_ knows the noise. The robot is thinking about it, the noise is piercing its mind and hers in turn. It's a horrible suddenness, a rude awakening that she imagines a baby feels when it's born.

"And I was tangled in… in… strings."

"I'm… I don't know…" Macy whispers.

Natasha reaches for her and when the woman's hand touches Macy she can hear more.

_I need to get her up—higher ground will be safest—there's a gun under the bar—_

Macy pulls away from the woman's hand and desperately calls out.

_something's happening to me._

Natasha flinches, the surprise is written clearly on her face but she schools it quickly.

"I had to kill the other guy. He was a good guy."

"You killed someone?" Steve asks.

Natasha doesn't try to touch her again but she's closer, her voice quiet and strong.

"I need you to get up okay? I will protect you, will figure this out."

But there isn't anything to figure out. For some time now she's suspected, but has been too afraid to admit it to herself. Hydra might have used her to experiment on the twins, but they did experiments on her too. The sceptre must have done something, she feels it in her brain and her body and now that she's healing… she can feel all these new awakenings. Telepathy is something she's never been able to do before.

"Wouldn't have been my first call."

Slowly Macy stands on shaky feet, her mind is cracking open. Everything feels too vulnerable and open.

"Take a deep breath and close yourself off to whatever's happening. You have control," Natasha whispers.

Macy looks at the woman, Natasha's focus is on Macy but the girl can see how the woman's positioning herself sideways, not turning her back to whatever the robot thing is. The blonde's eyes move from the robot to Natasha, she starts trembling harder and shakes her head.

"I can't," she breaks.

The sound has left the robot but it's now stuck, playing on a loop in her mind. Bits and pieces of other sounds and voices start bleeding into her thoughts, she can't stop it: it keeps on coming.

"But, down in the real world, we're faced with ugly choices."

"Look at me."

Macy shakes her head.

_"Macy."_

She flinches at Natasha's tone but looks at her, blue eyes meeting steeled green. There's a calm in them that forces Macy to stop, her whole body going still.

"Breathe. Control."

Macy takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. She relaxes her hands and feels the tight grip she unknowingly had on her telekinesis, release and slip from her fingers. A build up of power she'd been preparing to use in defence, and now that it's gone the noises in her head are louder. She's shaking but she tries. She think about the bars of her Hydra cage, imagines how the bars might encircle her brain. The bars keep herself in and also can keep others out, nothing can penetrate or escape. Her mind is enclosed… she is safe. The stark and overwhelming clearness of her mind starts to fade away to… to a fog. The headache is still there, not as bad as the ones she's been having but still painful. She can hear snippets of things, thoughts, but not as overwhelming, at least for the moment.

"Who sent you?" Thor demands.

Her blood chills when the robot plays the voice recording. It's clearly Tony's voice, a pristine recording.

"Ultron…" Bruce realises and she notices that only he and Tony understand what that means.

_A suit of armour around the world…_

She winces before she scramble in trying to close herself off.

"In the flesh—or no, not yet. Not this chrysalis. But I'm ready."

There's a click of a gun and Macy takes a step backwards: trembling.

"I'm on a mission."

"What mission?" Natasha asks.

"Peace in our time"

Robots crash through the walls beside Ultron and launch themselves at the group. Macy watches as one careens towards her, and on reflex she throws her arms out. She feels its body hit and bounce off a wall of energy, one she's never realised she's capable of making. She looks from her hands and the chaos ensuring around her, and with a startling stab of understanding, Macy knows that she's way out her league. Bullets and repulsers are firing everywhere and before she can think of moving Natasha grabs her, running them towards the bar. Natasha throws herself across the bar, pulling Macy with her. Before they can fall onto the ground Macy stops them. They both hang in the air just above the floor before she lowers them gently, but quickly to the ground.

Natasha looks at Macy with bright green eyes, no nonsense and all seriousness.

"Are you alright?"

She doesn't know. Her head aches and her body is vibrating with so much energy, more than she's ever had before.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lies.

"Good."

Natasha reaches under the bar and grabbs the gun hidden there, she quickly starts to fire at the robots flying around. Peaking over the bar top, Macy nervously watches as the other Avengers try fighting the bots—watching as the bots throw the members around the room like they weigh nothing.

"Come on," Natasha calls, the woman moving to stand.

_higher ground…_

Natasha runs for the stairs and Macy follows, stumbling as she ducks away from all the debris and bullets flying rapidly through the air. Looking up with bleary eyes, Macy looks just in time to see a robot heading toward them. Natasha shoots at the bot but it isn't slowing down, instead it speed up more. Macy's body feels exhausted and weighed down from the energy she's using to seal her mind off. But the thrumming inside of her is still so strong, and instead of wavering it almost feels like it's growing stronger. She's tingling and the call is there, becoming tangible as it gathers at her hands and in her mind. An invisible force begging to be let go of.

It both scares and excites her.

The robot reaches for them and Macy gives in. She doesn't need to lift her hands this time, she wills it and it happens. The body of the robot crumbles into itself, its gear crushing underneath her mental touch and whirring with panic. With one small thought she throws the robot across the room and watches as its body on impact explodes into pieces. Her powers sing with strength, a harmony of power and resolution. This is how it's supposed to feel, not a small fire burning inside of her. Macy gasps, falling backwards into the railing of the upper floor. Natasha grabs hold of Macy's arm and yanks the her behind cover before anything might hit her.

"I'm fine!" Macy whispers before the woman can ask.

"Stay behind me."

Macy doesn't bother trying to resist, she isn't sure she has the energy to. What just happened is so much more than anything she's ever been able to do: before Hydra and with Hydra. It scares her that using so much power feels good—that right now, she doesn't feel tied at all. Behind the pillar there's nothing to see, the giant column not only hides her from sight but hides what's happening behind her. Pass the sound of Natasha's gun firing, Macy can only just make out the sounds of the other Avengers fighting. She's closing her eyes before she knows it, and slides down the column, holding onto each shout as closely as she can. She wants to help. The power inside of her is thrumming to do more and each time she reaches for it, it sparks in response.

But she's so freaking terrified. She's suffered through a lot of terrifying things, but this seems so much worse. She's been introduced to the possibility of _real_ freedom, and now a robot is trying to murder them. Not to mention her mutation is changing and twisting from Hydra's experiments, becoming something she only half recognises. All she's been able to do since her mutation manifesting is move things with her mind. But now… now her telekinesis feels infinite and the telepathy a curse.

She clenches her eyes shut tighter when the voices threaten to sink in again, banging on her skull in hope that she'll let them in. Bit and pieces slip in like knives piercing skin, each make her wince and a tear rolls down her cheek. She can hear them like a distant murmur, not necessarily words but sounds that stretching toward her. A body crashes through a glass panelling and Macy jerks, curling herself to a small ball. She wants it all to just stop, everything is way too loud and too much. Her headache is getting worse, she can't hold back the full force of the voices any more.

_please stop, please stop, stop, stop—please._

_Who's there?_

Gasping, Macy begins shuddering. _Ultron…_

_You can hear me, can't you?_

She wishes she can't. She tries to get away, to pull herself out of the mental hole she's fallen into.

Ultron laughs in its mind.

_You're the mutant they found._

It pauses.

_Marcella—_

_don't call me that._

_Fascinating… Mutants: the epitome of human evolution…_

_leave me alone_

_… and they fear you all the same. Crucify you…_

_stop it._

_… kill you._

_no._

_How tragic._

_LEAVE. ME. ALONE._

She screams the words in her mind and with a surge, she feels herself tear through and out of Ultron's thoughts. The robot yells out loud and the distraction is enough for Steve and Clint to take out the last robot.

"That was dramatic," she hears Ultron mutter—she's not sure if its talking about her or the Avengers.

Natasha reaches back and helps Macy stand, she's grateful for the redhead. Everything is quiet in her mind now, except the headache is excruciating and she feels nauseous, on the verge of passing out. Together they walk slowly around the column and to the open space of the second floor. Bruce is already there, Macy notices the glass scatter through his dark curls. He looks just as put off as her, a troubled set to his brow as he looks around at all the chaos. Though, admittedly, Bruce probably has more to worry about than her—being the Hulk and all.

"I'm sorry, I know you mean well. You just didn't think it through."

Everyone starts to close in on Ultron, but all Macy wants to do is stay away. Being so close to the robot might pull her back in again, and being in its thoughts is the last place she wants to be. The pressure and fogginess is back, but she's not sure if she can trust herself. Her lack of control is palpable, and it tastes bitter on her tongue.

"You want to protect the world but you don't want it to change. How is humanity saved if it's not allowed to evolve?"

_Mutants; the epitome of human evolution._

Shuddering again, her stomach twists at how the words feel in Ultron's mind.

Ultron reaches and picks up one of his destroyed robots.

"With these? These puppets—" Ultron crushes the robot's head and Macy notices Tony flinch. "—There's only one path to peace. The Avengers' extinction."

That's where Thor ends it, throwing his hammer into Ultron and destroying the robot where it stands. Except hauntingly the robot speaks before dying:

"I had strings, but now I'm free."

Macy stumbles down the stairs after Natasha and Bruce, the sweat down her back sends a shiver through her body. None of the Avengers say anything, everyone just moves closer to Ultron, stare at its broken body on floor. The shock in the room is thick and intense, she doesn't need to hear their thoughts to know that. Strangely enough her mind is quiet, since tearing her way out of Ultron's thoughts she hasn't been able to hear anything; there's only a pressure around her mind that she bumps into constantly. It's a relief, but she can't help but be cautious of it.

Her mutation is changing… _evolving_.

And she has no freaking idea what the hell will happen.

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It's been an hour since Ultron happened and Macy is back in her room, and for a lack of better words hiding—again. She could almost cut the the tension back in the communal lounge room. It was obvious that the Avengers wanted to have serious words with each other, but they'd been all too stuck on where to start. Eventually Tony made a quick dash for his lab, the same lab the crazy-murder bot came from, with Bruce quick on his heels. It didn't take long for each member to follow on their own, shaking out of their shock and right into their—anger that's pointed all toward one man. Macy felt bad for Tony… but then again he did make Ultron, whether it was an accident or not.

Both Natasha and Clint had been last to leave.

"You cool kid?" Clint asked.

"Uh…"

Natasha didn't say anything, but the look she was giving Macy didn't help.

"I think I might just go to bed…"

They didn't argue but they watched her the whole way to the elevator.

Despite what she might have said, Macy hasn't gone to bed. Instead she's been spending the whole time pacing back and forth in her room, head buzzing from what happened and the headache that seems like an old friend now. It isn't the time to panic but she has been anyway. While the beginning of her time with Hydra had been a mystery, it didn't take too long for her to figure out what they wanted from her. She isn't a genius, she did average at school. But when you're a mutant and your parents have to give you "the talk"—and that's if they don't throw you out the moment they know—one has to be aware that being a mutant means people either want you dead or want to use you.

Her mother always ignored her mutation, she'd pretended that Macy is a normal girl. She never outwardly hated mutants, nor does Macy think she actually did. But it was obvious that her mum wanted Macy's life to be as easy as possible, and being a mutant makes that hard. So Dad made Macy promise she'd never tell anyone what she can do, that it's very important that she keep it a secret. At the time she didn't really understand, she'd only been nine. But Dad was so serious—the most she'd ever seen him be—that she knew, in some part of her, that she had to listen.

It's why after the first month that the pieces started to fit together. Hydra was using her, and after that it didn't take long to piece together what they were using her for.

During the experiments, she never really thought about what they might be doing to her. For so long she'd been thinking she'd just die there, the experiments had been so taxing and it became obvious she wasn't as strong as Wanda and Pietro. Quickly, the Maximoff became all that mattered, and Macy? Well they had to keep her alive to make sure the Maximoff's got stronger. When they'd experiment on her it was all to make sure she was strong enough to be useful for the twins, then exclusively Wanda when they realised that having the same blood type made the experiments compatible… somehow.

So she's always assumed that one day they'd finally use up all of her.

But they haven't.

And now their experiments are making themselves known.

Macy gulps as she looks at herself in the mirror. At least she doesn't look any different from this morning… physically. She looks closer, making sure nothing is scaled before turning and checking for spouting wings or a tail. Nothing. _Thank god. _Instead she notices with a pang of sadness that the dress she's wearing is pretty much destroyed. There are rips in the skirt and fabricate hanging off in places. Not wanting to look at it anymore, she changes into a shirt and a pair of sweats, ditching the dress in the hamper in the bathroom. There's a knock at the door and she tenses by the foot of the bed until she watches Natasha slip into the room.

"Hi," Macy says weakly.

"We need to talk."

She feels like crying but she doesn't, chewing on her lip she moves to sit tentatively on the bed.

"Okay…"

Her headache sends a particularly sharp stab of pain.

"We know you weren't telling the truth yesterday."

Macy sighs, "I figured."

"Strucker experimented on you."

"Yes."

"So you know the Maximoffs."

"Yes…"

"They experimented on the three of you together."

Macy pauses, and instead of saying anything, she just nods her head. Natasha lets out a puff of air that sounds like a sigh before settling herself on the bed next to Macy.

"Did Strucker say anything else about what he was planning?"

"He…" She shudders at the thought of Strucker, the way his face pinched together with glee when he'd hear their screams. "He wanted to create enhanced individuals but… better."

"Mutants?"

She nods.

"But finding mutants is hard. Most go into hiding. They always liked to brag about how they found me… Finding an old newspaper article on a car crash, noticing how the doors seemed to magically tear themselves off a burning car; a miracle. How they looked into everyone who was reported on the scene by the police—he…" she hesitates over the memory, anger bleeding into her veins.

"_He_ told me that my mum was smart by running away before the police got there, so our names wouldn't be in the report. But it didn't matter because they found us through CTV. That's when they started to plan my 'extraction'."

Natasha doesn't say anything and Macy appreciates it. The calmness and lack of emotion in the Avenger's eye makes it easier to spill everything, to get lost in a rant because there's no worrying about what the woman is thinking when she can't see it.

"Everyday he'd tell me that I was doing the country a service," she sniffs. "That my sacrifice will make the world a better place, and then they'd cut me open or they'd use the sceptre—and all I could think was that I was going to die. I was getting weaker and they could tell."

"But you didn't. You're a survivor."

Macy's head snaps to Natasha and she looks at the Avenger with tears in her eyes. There's so much understanding in Natasha's eyes, that she didn't expect.

"What happened earlier…"

Macy stiffens.

"… have you ever done that before?"

Shaking her head, Macy tries to ignore the headache—a reminder of what is happening.

"N–No," her voice trembles as she speaks.

Her hands shake and they fall into a silence.

"Was there anyone else besides the twins?"

Macy is glad for the change in conversation despite the memories it brings.

"Yes—but no one else survived," Macy shakes her head but Natasha nods.

"Do you know what he planned to use them for?"

She chews on her lip and nods her head again.

"What was he planning?"

"To destroy you all. The Avengers."

Macy can't stop herself, she starts crying. She's shocked when Natasha pulls her into a hug. Physically, it's a little bit awkward and the hug itself is loose and stiff at the same time, but Macy appreciates it anyway. She lets herself cry on the redhead's shoulder. Natasha starts to hum, something Macy doesn't recognise but still finds lulling, and after a minute Macy's shoulders relax. Soon she stops crying.

"How do you feel?"

"My head hurts."

Natasha just nods and pulls away, standing up from the bed.

"Let's get you checked out at medical."

* * *

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* * *

Natasha keeps a careful eye on Macy as they ride the elevator down and to med-bay. There aren't a lot of things that surprise her any more, something that comes with working the job for years. Not that she expected their night to end with Tony's Iron Legion attacking them, but being attacked in general? It isn't a far stretch from their every day. But to suddenly have a teenage girl inside her head?

_That_ had shocked Natasha.

She's quiet the whole way to the elevator, and still doesn't say a word as the doors slide open and they walk towards the medical room that still has Helen Cho's equipment set up. Bruce is looking at a cut on Tony's head, the two bickering as Bruce tries to wipe an alcoholic swab against the cut. It'd be an amusing sight if things were different. Both men turn to the door when it clicks shut behind them. Natasha notices Macy flinching, she can't help but wonder if the girl can hear what they're thinking right now—if she can hear Natasha's thoughts.

There's no reaction.

She guesses not.

"Mind checking her over, Bruce?"

"Sure."

He smiles at them and she watches Macy's shoulders relax.

"Come join the wounded kid."

Tony pats the spot on the bench next to him, his tone makes Macy laugh. It's a nice sound, the sound of a girl. Macy pulls herself up next to Tony and the man pokes her leg.

"Ow! What was that for?" Macy asks.

"Just making sure we weren't losing you."

Bruce laughs and Macy retaliates by poking Tony back.

Nat stands back, watching the interaction from a small distance. There's a tiny smile on Macy's face, grinning as Tony jokes around and entertains her while Bruce cleans her cuts, then checking her pupils for a concussion. The whole time the words are on the tip of her tongue, to ask Bruce to take a blood test. It was what the old Natasha would have done, the one who cared little for the feelings of other. It's an instinct she bites down on. A blood test might explain what's happening, but they don't need an explanation—they know. Natasha crosses her arms, she gives Macy a reassuring smile when she catches the girl looking at her. The thing is, as much as Nat wants to know exactly what is happening, she will never force the girl to go through the process. Maybe it'll be as simple as a blood test, but Macy Gibson has been experimented on and prodded at for two years. The last thing she wants is for them to start doing the exact same thing that Hydra had.

The girl deserves a break.

Even if it's just a few weeks. She needs to feel that there's a possibility of normality—to an extent—again.

So no matter how much Natasha's instincts want to double check, she keeps her lips sealed. For the moment she'll keep it to herself, and when Macy decides to ask for help, or it becomes too hard to hide, she'll let the truth come forth.

She doesn't feel good about the decision, it goes against everything she was trained. But when Macy snorts as she laughs at Tony's joke, Natasha takes reassurance that this will be worth it… even if it doesn't last long.

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**Author's Note:**

I found out fraternal twins don't always have the same blood type and I assumed they just would? Hence when I looked into it I decided it was another cool thing to link Wanda and Macy with.

Also by the way I am not a scientist or a doctor, all of the jargan is mostly made up and completely fictional.

Thank you again to all the new followers! Hope you all are enjoying this so far!

**Please keep following and send in some reviews! Thank you!**

**Reviews:**

**Guest:** Thank you for the review and I'm looking forward to Peter too! There won't be a long wait once Age of Ultron is done :)


	5. Chapter Four

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**Chapter Four**

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The One with the Reunion

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* * *

**Sokovia**

3rd October 2015

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Wanda wandered the halls of the, now abandoned, Hydra facility. Ultron had just finished showing them his plan for the Avengers and it left her feeling nervous — unsettled by the many things they still didn't know. But Ultron was so sure of himself, confident that his plan would work with her and Pietro at his side and any hesitation she or Pietro might have had, vanished almost instantly at the reminder of all they had lost. Being in the very base where they decided that enough was enough helped. There wouldn't be another opportunity to rid the world of the Avengers, to stop the cycle of abuse where the rich trod over the poor in their designer shoes. Wanda refused to stand by as more Sokovian children were orphaned just like she and her brother.

Ultimately, Wanda was on board with the plan.

Dismantling the Avengers would be a step towards Sokovia's retribution. But she needed a break from the chaotic order of Ultron's disciples, it hurt her head to watch them as they built. Their minds devoid of any thought, only silence and death echoed from the empty shells of their minds. Since becoming enhanced, Wanda had become increasingly more reliant on being able to see into a person's mind; to know if their intentions were true or false before they could say otherwise. She didn't have that same comfort with Ultron. He was an enigma and Wanda knew that they could be terrifying.

A small sigh left her lips as she closed the door behind her, ahead was the floor of the base where they'd been kept. Wanda looked at the cement walls and concrete floors, she shuddered from not only the cold it emitted but the memories as well. After a moment she started to walk, her steps small and purposefully quiet. Wanda didn't care to stop and look at Hydra's things, nor the destroyed computers and medical equipment scattered everywhere. She opened another door and let herself into the room where a wall was lined with floor to ceiling cages. She hated that they spent so long locked up like animals, but it became a necessary evil — one she and Pietro promised to bear for their country. But they hadn't been alone…

_Macy. _

Wanda stood in front of the younger girl's cell, watched as a leak dripped down from the ceiling, forming puddle of brown water on the ground. Macy's cell was always damp and cold, the little girl would always catch a cold. The girl's cell was on one side of Wanda's and Pietro's on the other. For the past month Wanda thought the younger girl was dead. Accepted the fact when the girl never came back after a session with Strucker. The loss had made Wanda more determined to finish what she and Pietro started, but the loss never went away; it carried itself with her like a scar.

Then a few days ago when Wanda should have seen on her own reflection, she saw Macy through the mirror instead. She blinked and the girls had still been there. Not only could she see the girl staring back at her, Wanda recognised the girl's signature in her mind as well. Macy looked fine, a hundred times better than when Wanda last saw her; being whisked away on a gurney into another room, never to reappear.

Since she saw her, all Wanda could think about was where the girl would possibly be. When Macy disappeared from the mirror Wanda had tried to reach out to her but she felt nothing; like the girl had never been there. There was this huge sense of failure sitting on Wanda's shoulders. She should have fought more for Macy, demanded Strucker tell her what had happened. But she hadn't, she let it go and in turn - she let Macy go.

Wanda felt a hand squeeze her shoulder and she relaxed under her brother's touch.

She told Pietro what she saw immediately and she could tell that he had his doubts.

_"Are you okay?"_ He asked with the crisp timber of the Sokovian language.

_"Yes,"_ she lied.

Pietro scoffed but Wanda ignored him, instead she turned her back on their past and looked to the future. Tomorrow their plan would begin and once it was done she swore she'd find Macy Gibson and make things right.

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* * *

**Sokovia**

2013

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_Macy walked down the hall in a hospital gown, she shivered each time the damp breeze brushed against her exposed skin. Two men walked beside her, one on each side, as they guided her down to Strucker's room. She was scared. It'd been four months since she woke up here, locked in a cell and completely alone. Three months since she found out Strucker and his men murdered her parents — two months since she met the Maximoff's. There'd been others before the twins, Macy watched them all disappear as quickly as they had appeared. When the agents came for her they said nothing and she followed. She used to ask questions, used to demand they give her answers but she learned it was better to keep quiet. _

_ She missed her parents. Missed having their Saturday morning chocolate chip pancakes. She missed their movies nights and all the times her mum would open her arms and Macy would crawl into them for a snuggle. She missed annoying her dad as he reread the A Song of Ice and Fire series for the hundredth time. Her whole heart ached for them and she wanted to go home…_

_The men stopped once they reached a door and Macy kept walking, her steps slow and tentative as she braced herself for another day; another horror. The door to Strucker's lab was already opened and when she passed the threshold she felt the cold of the sterile room settle into her bones. She hated this room, every time she was in there she churned with anger. But as much as she hated to admit it, she liked that the room was clean — the cleanest room in the whole entire base, not that she saw much of it. She felt gross with herself but any likeness she had for the lab was always quickly burned out of her minutes later. However as soon as Macy stepped into the room she realised that the day was going to be something different._

_There were two medical gurneys and one of them was already occupied._

_ For five months she'd been taken in and out of that room, she'd seen many faces come and go so when she saw Wanda Maximoff laid out on a gurney in the room; Macy braced herself for another face gone. They hadn't spoke much, they were kept next to one another but Wanda spent most of her time clutching her brother's hands through their cells. Seeing them always made her yearn for a sibling she never had, then she'd think of her parents and the process of guilt cycled again. _

_ Macy learned early to do what she was told or she'd be punished, so she didn't hesitate when she saw Wanda. She kept steady as she walked over to the empty gurney and sat atop it. She didn't meet Wanda's eyes even though she could feel the girl staring at her. They sat there for ten minutes in silence and Macy was thankful that Wanda didn't ask a million questions like all the others had. She seemed to already understand that they couldn't be friends; they'd be punished._

_When she heard footsteps enter the room she tensed, she recognised the distinct clack of steel capped dress shoes. _

_ "Ah — Miss Maximoff. Miss Gibson. I hope you are prepared for today's session; mind, body and spirit."_

_ Neither girls said a word._

_She's heard what other people had gone through in these rooms, the Strucker's guards liked to gossip when they thought no one was listening… or maybe they wanted her to hear. So far all Strucker had done was take her blood and… and stuff from her bones — she didn't know what it was called. She always felt sore and tired — her body would hurt for days after until they did it all over again. But this time was different. Two more men entered the room and the sound of them wheeling a trolley in had Macy looking up. There was this strange staff thing incased in glass being brought into the room. There was a blue glow that emitted from it and caused dread to boil in her stomach._

_"Strap them up for a blood transfusion."_

_She and Wanda had a doctor each guide them to lay on the gurney before they strapped both of them to the gurney. For the first time Macy looked at Wanda, they made eye contact and the meaning that transpired between them made Macy's eyes watered. Thankfully the doctor pierced her skin with the needle as the tears started to roll down her cheeks._

_A few minutes later Macy watched sick to her stomach as her blood ran from a plastic tube and into Wanda's body. There was so many things wrong with it, it was an invasion of self and a part of Macy want to say sorry to Wanda even though it was happening to the both of them._

_"Commence sceptre dosage now."_

_Macy watched in shock as one of the doctor's took the staff and pointed it toward Wanda. She watched without a breath as the doctor handled the staff until a beam of blue light shot toward Wanda. The other girl seized and jerked as the beam crackled around Wanda like electricity, it entered her body and was doing something to her from the inside. Macy cried out in shock and felt a doctor press down on her shoulder's in warning. Without thinking Macy reached out and threw the doctor holding the sceptre back with a single thought._

_Smack._

_Macy felt the sting of her cheek from the doctor's hand making fierce impact._

_Before she could utter a cry the sceptre's torture turned to her._

_And before she fell to the darkness she watched as Wanda continued to seize on her gurney._

"_You're doing so well Patient X."_

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* * *

**New York City**

4th October 2015

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_You're doing so well Patient X._

Macy shuddered at the freshness of last night's dream; a concoction of memory and nightmare. She didn't wake up screaming, but she ran for the bathroom and only just made it in time to empty her stomach. She'd been plagued by nightmares the past three days but after the events of last night… the nightmare felt too real. She'd been plagued by Strucker since leaving Sokovia, reliving memories of the experiments — but last night it hadn't just been Strucker who tormented her but Ultron also, and surrounding her was the Avenger's; their dead bodies scattered around her feet.

Their faces were still clear in her mind even as hot water poured over her, washing away the last remnants of sleep.

Last night, she wasn't sure what to think. _God_ — she hadn't even had the time to really process it all. She'd been so preoccupied with her mutation she hadn't allowed herself time to acknowledge her fear — because she had been scared, she still was. It wasn't normal for robots to become sentient and want to kill people. Maybe it was normal for the Avenger's but even though she was kidnapped by Hydra and captured for two years; it wasn't normal for her.

Her skin crawled at the memory of Ultron's voice.

They dismantled it easily but there was a promise in its voice that it wouldn't be the last time they saw it.

For a moment, Macy distracted herself from the memories and got changed. Natasha had lent her more clothes last night and she tugged on a pair of training leggings that were definitely two sizes too big for her but she made them work. She shrugged on Clint's old sweater and wandered out into the hallway. It was too quiet and she guessed Natasha and Clint must be with the others — though they were spies so they could be laundering in their rooms for all she knew. Either way, she took the elevator down to the communal room with breakfast on her mind. Her stomach was eager for food, a small fortune that she revelled in. Food was always scarce with Strucker, they were only ever given what little was needed to get by - but here it was in abundance.

The elevators doors opened and she was shocked to see that all the shattered glass had pretty much been all removed. Most of the room looked completely repaired from last night's attack, almost like nothing had ever happened. There were still people mulling around and cleaning as she made her way through the room and to the small kitchen. There was only two people in the kitchen; Tony Stark and his friend Rhodey. Both men were standing in a comfortable silence, doing their own morning routine. Slowly Macy moved from where she'd been standing and got herself a glass of water. Rhodey walked pass her with a coffee in his hands and a small, sympathetic smile. It left just her and Tony, who was sitting at the kitchen island with a tablet in his hands.

She hesitated. Tony had been nice enough — he was letting her stay there and looked to be with the other Avenger's willing to protect her identity. But being alone with him made her hyper aware that everything that had happened the past two days was so sudden and unexpected. The last thing Tony Stark would have expected was to house a teenage girl in his home for the past few days. And what would happen after the dust settled and Ultron was dealt with? Macy could feel her throat choking up with emotion and tried to swallow it back down. She had no more family left, no where left to go.

"Want some bacon and eggs, cheater?"

She shouldn't feel hungry - but she was and her time with Strucker made declining food stressful.

"Thanks," she mumbled, too tired to be amused by the nickname.

Tony gestured to the other side of the kitchen and she finally noticed the platter of bacon and eggs, a stack of plates sat beside it. Macy filled her plate tentatively, she filled the plate considerate of the others but self-consciously stocking up on food. She sat a seat down from Tony and picked through her plate quickly, savouring the taste despite her concerns.

She wasn't sure what was going to happen to her.

Her mutation was changing and she had no where to go.

"You're thinking pretty hard over there, kiddo."

She looked over at Tony and he had an eyebrow raised.

"There's a lot to think about right now."

Tony scoffed.

"You and me both."

"How was last night?"

"Oh — you know; awful."

Tony eyes flicked to his tablet and fiddled with it, he was clearly distracted by the mess of last night. Ultron still being out there made Macy nervous and she couldn't hide it in her voice when she asked;

"Have you found it?"

Tony sighed and looked at her, Macy was shocked to see how tired the billionaire looked. There were bags under his eyes which made it obvious that Tony hadn't slept last night.

"No, but we will."

It was a promise, but a promise that scared her.

They had to find Ultron, but Macy really didn't want to ever see the robot again.

_… mutants; the epitome of human evolution…_

She shuddered.

They didn't hear the footsteps but they saw the red head enter the kitchen.

"Tony — Steve and Hill found something."

"See? Nothing to worry about. Bring breakfast with you, you're a growing young girl," Tony said with a flourish as he got off the stool, tablet in hand.

Macy made eye contact with Natasha and felt a chill pass through her.

It didn't feel like there was nothing to worry about.

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* * *

Tony brought the lead and Natasha took the back. Macy felt like she was being marched off to war and maybe she was, for all she knew. It made the palms of her hands sweat and the plate in her hands shook from her trembling hands. Even if she could help them with Ultron, Macy had no idea how her abilities would react. Her headaches were back and there was no why that she was going to touch the pressure that she felt against her brain. So far no telepathy had happened since last night - and there was no way she was going to tempt fate. She mentally crossed her fingers all the same and prayed that nothing would happen.

Steve and Maria weren't in the room when the three of them entered, neither was Clint but they passed him in the hallway on the phone. Tony made off toward Bruce and they started whispering together but she couldn't make out their words. Macy followed after Natasha, who sat down in front of a computer and started to load programs that Macy had never seen before. Macy kept picking at her food and noticed that Thor had been talking to Bruce but left when Tony appeared. She noticed the tension in his shoulders — he was still pissed about what happened last night. Thor looked over to them and Macy felt sheepish when they made eye contact, quickly looking away and refocused on her breakfast and Natasha.

"What are you doing?" Macy asked after a small silence.

Natasha's eyes flickered to Macy and the back to the screen, Thor's shadow fell over them.

"Running background checks on Ultron's victims. There might be a connection."

"Impressive," Thor mumbled.

The automatic doors slid open and all of their attention turned to Steve as he entered the room, tensed and with a tablet clenched in his hand. He stopped after a few steps and Macy slid back into her chair at the intensity of the look Steve gave her.

He opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself, he looked resigned and his sigh made the hair's on Macy's arms rise.

"What's this?" Tony asked as he and Bruce walked over.

Steve handed the tablet to Thor and the only reaction Macy saw on the god's face was the small look at her. She started to panic, her palms sweating as Thor slammed the tablet into Tony's chest. For a brief second Macy saw the picture and her eyes widened.

"A message. Ultron killed Strucker."

Strucker was dead.

"And he did a Banksy at the crime scene, just for us," Tony said as he looked at the tablet.

Strucker was _dead_.

"This is a smoke screen. Why send a message when you've just given a speech?" Natasha asked.

"Strucker knew something that Ultron wanted us to miss," Steve concluded.

"Yeah, I bet he… Yeah. Everything we had on Strucker's been erased."

"Not everything," said Steve.

All the Avenger's looked at each other but Macy was frozen. She felt numb, the person who had tormented her for two years, the main antagonist of her nightmares since being rescued — a man who was now dead. She couldn't make out the feelings she felt, there were too many of them to comprehend so simply. But her the sensation her body felt reminded her of the times when she would first run into the ocean, the shocking coldness of the water; frozen.

"Macy?"

She looked up and they were all looking at her. She wasn't sure which person spoke, she hadn't been paying attention, but they all held the same look; worry. They were worried about how she felt and the feeling was mutual.

"Are you okay?" Natasha asked.

She nodded her head.

"Yeah… I'm okay."

And to Macy's surprise; she was. But all of their eyes were on her and it unnerved her thinking that they might know how she felt deep down past the shock.

"I… I'm just going to go to the bathroom."

She stood up from the desk chair and her legs shook initially, but she waited a second and then walked — her legs stable enough. Macy kept a steady pace, she wanted to run out the door but the need to seem as normal as possible was stronger. The last thing she wanted was for one of the Avenger's to follow after her. She felt the burn of their stare but no one moved to interrupt or follow her, which she sent silent thank you for. Once out of the room and a hallway away, she realised she had no idea where the bathroom was on this floor. The halls twisted too much and the floor was massive. It took her ten minutes to finally open the right door and she immediately locked it after her.

Then everything hit her.

Macy slid down the door and cried.

Not sad tears.

She cried tears of joy.

Head stuffed in her hands, Macy's whole body shuddered as she weeped her relief. She didn't feel frozen by the shock of Strucker's death anymore. There was a weight lifted off her shoulders and an explosive sense of relief and… and _happiness_. She lifted her head and gasped in a breath. It wasn't an easy feeling; to feel happy that someone died. In fact, she felt sick to her stomach. The overwhelming happiness she felt at Strucker's death terrified her. She wanted Strucker gone but she never thought what that would mean — dead… Strucker was _dead_. Always - at the back of her mind - she feared that one day, when she least expected, Strucker would stroll back into her life and take her back. It was hard not to accept she was somewhat safe in the Avenger's hands — but she hadn't known how long she would be at the tower for.

But now — now that fear didn't matter because Strucker was gone.

She was free of him.

The possibilities were endless now and it was both intoxicating and daunting.

By the time she left the bathroom and made her way back to the room she left the Avenger's in, they weren't there. Instead the room was crowded with boxes and stacks of paper that were littered all over the place. She tried not to panic too much and walked as fast as she could to the main area of the floor, her shoulders immediately relaxing when she saw the members filtering around in a rush. She was confused about what they were doing until she saw the gear they were changing into and the weapons they had strapped to them. Macy stood frozen in the middle of the floor and watched how precise their movements were.

This was their life, this was what they knew.

It was Steve who noticed her, his iconic cowl settled on his head.

"Are you okay?"

"Did you find Ultron?"

She didn't want to keep thinking about Strucker.

"Yes."

"Okay," Macy said softly.

"You're coming with us."

Natasha's voice shocked her and Macy's head turned to face the ex-spy.

"What?"

Her eyes darted between Steve and Natasha, the captain looked uncomfortable but he didn't say anything in protest.

"You're coming with us. We can't leave you here alone."

"I don't want to come."

She wasn't an Avenger and she didn't want to be one.

"Macy…" Steve sighed but Natasha didn't falter.

"We've already decided. We're going to Lagos and you'll stay in the Quinjet with Bruce."

Natasha walked away before Macy could protest again. It was clear that Natasha had made her mind up and nothing Macy could say would change the inevitable. She was going to Lagos with the Avenger's whether he liked it or not. She turned to Steve and any guilt he felt was wiped away with a soft seriousness.

"It's safer for you to be with us."

And maybe they were right — but Macy wasn't a fighter and that night with Ultron still terrified her. The last thing she wanted to was go where Ultron was.

"So I don't get a choice?" She finalised with a sigh.

Steve sighed again, "No. Not this time."

He patted her shoulder and moved to pick up his shield that was sat on a table across the room. She watched him until she was too frustrated. All she wanted to do was scream but screaming wouldn't do anything.

Despite how annoying she found it, it made sense her going — because what else would she do in this tower alone?

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**Lagos**

4th October 2015

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The Quinjet flew at a speed that shocked Macy, but she guessed that superheroes needed to get to places quickly and crossing continents had to be reduced in time. The whole plane ride had been mostly silent, there were times Macy picked up on scrapes of a conversation between the Avengers but nothing that made any sense to her she eventually she tuned it all out. By the time the Quinjet landed in Lagos, just off a salvage yard hidden in a forrest before the city, it was mid-afternoon and the sun was out and shining brightly. As soon as they touched down the members of the Avengers, excluding Bruce, were ready to step of the platform. She was nervous for them, they were walking into a situation where anything could happen.

Before they stepped off Natasha approached Macy who looked at the woman with wide eyes.

"We'll be back soon okay?"

It wasn't an apology but for some reason Macy could hear it there in Natasha's voice anyway.

"See you soon," she whispered back.

Natasha's face didn't show any expression but she nodded her head slightly before she joined the others.

"Alright, we'll try not to have much fun without you Bruce — and twerp try not to explode anything or we'll ground you," Tony spoke through the Iron Man suit before he flew out the open hatch door.

The rest of the Avenger's followed after him and all she and Bruce could do was watch them go and hope for the best. Bruce was the first to move, he moved toward the cock pit and started to fiddle with one of the computers there. Macy stayed where she was, unsure what she should do with herself. It's how she's felt since the second day of being at the tower with the others; continually unsure of what her next move was — whatever would happen to her now. But since last night and this morning everything was more confusing. First, there was something happening to her mutation. The headache that had already burned through the prescription Cho gave her was a reminder of it. Then there was the news of Strucker's death and the confirmation that she wouldn't be forced back into his experiments; that he wouldn't be looking for her.

Two years of her life were taken from her and she now somehow had to put all the pieces together and figure out what life would be for her.

Macy winced as she felt the tension in her head grow until all she could hear was her blood pounding in her ears. She moved back into the Quinjet and reached into the backpack she put together before the left. The bag was pretty empty, Macy had no possessions at all but she did pack a few granola bars and her medication. She popped a few pills and winced at the bitter taste as they slid down her throat. She hopped they worked quickly, since last night the headaches had slowly began to get worst. She knew what would happen when the pain became too much, it was a door she didn't want to open again.

"You're still taking those?"

Macy jerked in surprise at hearing Bruce's voice, she looked up and the doctor was staring down at her with slight alarm and concern on his face.

"Yeah — my headaches still… ache."

He raised an eyebrow, "You just took four tablets, double the amount instructed. How many have you taken today?"

She looked down and felt hesitant to tell him that she already had eight today, more than the daily requirement.

"I don't know…"

Bruce sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"You should have said something if the headaches were bothering you so much."

_"It's not the headaches,"_ she blurted out.

Both her and Bruce looked at each other as a small silence enveloped them. Macy hadn't meant to tell anyone beside Natasha about what was happening to her. But she was getting tired and frustrated at her own confusion at what was happening to her. One minute she felt okay, the next the headaches and pressure hurt too much — and then she was hearing people's thoughts. She knew her powers were changing but she didn't understand why they were doing _this_.

"What is it?" Bruce asked.

Macy sighed and felt tears well in her eyes.

"My mutation…"

Bruce immediately straightened and Macy could see that the scientist in him was intrigued.

"Your mutation?"

"When Ultron attacked, all of a sudden I could hear his thoughts and… and I heard Natasha's too. I don't know why it's happening. It's never happened before."

"Not even when you were with Strucker?"

"No."

That was the confusing part. Not once during the experiments did Macy's abilities change, the whole time they stayed the same and other times it felt like she had no abilities at all.

"Interesting…"

He broke off in thought and she started to play with her hands nervously.

"It's possible —" Bruce started again, "— that your mutated cells were mutating all along but weren't manifesting themselves. Rather, they were working harder to keep you alive throughout Strucker's experiments. Now that there's no concern of your body shutting down, the mutations are manifesting themselves and becoming functional."

"So… it's going to keep happening?"

Bruce nodded his sympathetically.

"I imagine it'll get worse before it gets better."

Macy closed her eyes and forced back tears.

"Macy… we'll figure something out, I'm sure."

She was grateful that Bruce was trying to make her feel better but she didn't.

The comm link crackled through the Quinjet speakers and Bruce became alert, he moved closer to the latch opening. Macy didn't follow after him, instead she stayed where she was and listened to the jumbled voices crackle through the system. Something wasn't right and it unnerved Macy. Bruce began to walk down the ramp, nervously speaking through the comm as he tried to reach anyone on the team; there wasn't a coherent reply.

"Bruce? What's happening?"

"Stay on the Quinjet Macy."

Macy took a step toward the man but screamed when a sudden flash of blue knocked Bruce toward the ship yard. She moved to the hatch and stopped suddenly at the ramp when she saw who had knocked Bruce down. Her heart leaped to her throat and she choked on air as she stared at the two people she least expected to see.

Both Maximoff siblings looked just as shocked and none of them moved.

"_Macy_…" Wanda breathed.

Macy felt more tears well in her eyes. _She missed them so much._

Bruce groaned and it broke the shock of them seeing each other. Macy looked between the twins and Bruce, confusion flickered across her face but before she could do anything Pietro's arms were wrapped across her and Wanda pulsed a stream of red energy that entered Bruce's mind.

"No!" Macy yelled but it was all too late.

Bruce began to twitch and roar on the ground as his body transformed. But before Macy could even blink Pietro grabbed hold of Wanda as well and then they were further off into the forrest and The Hulk's roar's of anger were a dull echo on the wind. Macy fell to her knees and threw up all over the forrest floor. Her stomach rolled painfully from the unnatural speed which Pietro ran them through the forrest. She heaved multiple times as her body tried to right itself, thankfully neither twin spoke through the ordeal. When she finally stopped, Macy looked up and glared at the two people she thought were her friends.

"Why did you do that?"

Wanda looked both guilty and cautious, but Pietro looked completely unbothered.

"They deserve it."

"_They?_ What did you do to the others?"

Macy started to panic.

"_Macy,_" Wanda tried but Macy didn't want a word of it.

"What did you do to them?!"

Wanda looked to Pietro, a looked that meant they were having one of their silent conversations. Just like they had when they were with Strucker, holding each other's hands through their cells as Macy would watch with jealousy. Anger spiked through her and both she could muster a thought she rushed toward them and grabbed Wanda's head between her hands. Her headache exploded and all of a sudden images flashed through Macy's mind, images of the Avengers, Ultron, Wanda and Pietro — she saw what happened in small flashes of Wanda's memory before it all went away as a small blast of Wanda's psionic energy threw Macy backwards.

Wanda was panting.

Macy coiled on the ground, groaning from the blast of Wanda's powers. The images she saw were still flashing in her head, even as she felt the pressure snap back into place and the headache she'd been battling before returned in full force. She didn't know how she did it but there'd been a feeling and she acted on it. But what she saw she hadn't expected. The twins were working with Ultron; they wanted to destroy the Avenger's. She looked over at Wanda, Pietro was kneeling beside her with a worried look on his face as he fussed over her. When Wanda looked over Pietro followed and Macy could see the hesitation in their eyes.

_"Why?"_ She cried.

"Please — you must understand," Wanda began.

"_Understand?_ Ultron is the _bad guy_."

"Ultron wants to save the world," Wanda said as she took a step towards Macy. "To make it better."

"By hurting people? Ultron will destroy the world before he —"

"Ultron is not the Avengers."

Pietro's words were so shocking that any of word died up in her throat. There was so much hate and passion to his tone, the conviction she heard was nothing she expected.

"Everywhere they go they leave death and destruction. _We_ — are the ones who clean the mess they make and they are spoiled in riches."

"Pietro…"

But Pietro shrugged Wanda's attempt off and kept going.

"Tony Stark kills our parents and many of Sokovia. But he sits in his pretty tower and no one cares. The Avengers kill and destroy but not any more. We made promise to end the Avengers, we will end the Avengers."

Macy was frozen with shock, a sudden realisation stabbed through her heart.

"Strucker didn't take you… did he?"

A flash of guilt showed on Wanda's face. Macy had always just assumed that the twins had been like her; orphans picked up off the street by Strucker and forced into the experiments. She never asked and they never said otherwise.

"We volunteered."

She wasn't sure why, but Wanda's words were a slap across Macy's face.

"Why?" Her voice was a broken cry.

"For Sokovia," Pietro answered.

Macy couldn't look at either one of them anymore. Knowing that they willing wanted to be apart of Strucker's experiments felt like a betrayal. She cared for them so much — they had all watched each other suffer at Strucker's hands. She'd personally been Strucker's instrument in altering Pietro and Wanda's chemical DNA, the man had cut her open so many times in his attempts of mutating the twins. For the two years, they were her allies. She felt a connection with them that was born from the shared trauma. But now that she knew it was their choice, it didn't feel the same. Their traumas were different — they suffered in different ways and she couldn't understand _why_ they would do it.

Cold hands grabbed hold of Macy's and she flinched, tried to pull them away but Wanda's grip was soft but not relenting.

"Please. Come with us Macy — you can understand, we will explain."

Wanda's green eyes were pleading, no trace of scarlet in them. They were her eyes, and the emotions behind them were honest. They were the eyes of Macy's friend, eyes that she took so much solace in when with Strucker. It would be so easy to give in, to runaway with the twins and live out life with them. She knew them better than she did the Avengers… but the thought of abandoning the Avengers without even a thank you? Besides knowing a part of her would miss them, it would hurt more to betray their kindness in such a way.

The other girl squeezed Macy's hands tightly.

"Together."

The promise broke Macy's conflict.

She pulled her hands away.

"No," she whispered sadly. "I won't do that."

She saw the pain flicker through Wanda's eyes before a scarlet gleam breached the green, they flickered to Pietro and the twins came to an understanding. Suddenly, a scarlet mist danced before Macy's eyes and she gasped. She could feel Wanda's ability touching her, trying to pry into Macy's thoughts but the pressure pushed back against Wanda's attack. The mist of psychic energy tried to again but the pressure grew and Macy realised that her mutation was protecting her from Wanda's influence. Macy started to crawl away from Wanda, eyes blazing with betrayal.

"Seriously?"

Wanda's lips parted to speak but it was the last thing Macy saw before she felt her head suddenly connect with the ground — everything went dark.

* * *

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* * *

Natasha was still reeling from the vision the Maximoff girl forced upon her. For a long time she's tried to bury the memories of the Red Room, of Madame B and the extensive — not to mention gruelling — training of the Widow program.

Back then she'd been Natalia Alianovna Romanova; a girl with no family to protect her, a pawn for the KBG's benefit. The _Black Widow Op's_ program was a special division of Department X where orphaned girls were trained in espionage and killing — Natasha still remembered every face of the other twenty-eight girls who trained beside her. They danced beside her in the vision, ballet had been one of Madame B's favoured training practises. But what Wanda hadn't made her remember was the night they'd been left in the tundra, a two week walk from the base with enough supplies for one.

They let the girl's be friends, then they let them kill each other.

In the end it had been Natasha who walked away with her friends' blood crusted dry on her hands.

She walked for two weeks, too broken to shed a tear for her sisters.

_"Don't you see Natalia? You're the one."_

For months later she'd dream of the gruelling fight that took place on the mountain. Twenty four teenaged girls wrestling and killing for their survival. It had been feral… and devastating. But she survived, so the training became more intense. They trained her in every form of combat available, they taught her the art of manipulation and espionage. Natalia had thrived in everything they threw at her… and _everyone_. Until years later Natasha was deemed ready to graduate.

_The man beneath the potato sack…_

She never learned who he was, Natasha never saw his face.

But she knew one thing; she killed him.

Then they sterilised her.

While the sterilisation had been enough to make killing easier over the years — everything leading before it had influenced too.

Since Clint found her, Natasha had tried to make amends. To wipe out the red in her ledger, to make up for everything she'd done for the KBG by protecting those who couldn't protect themselves. But Wanda had reminded her exactly how much red was still left — that there were things she was still keeping hidden to herself.

She looked pass Clint's shoulder to Steve, who ambled beside them just as silent and disturbed. A year ago she hadn't been honest. Natasha knew more than she let on about the Winter Soldier, he hadn't just shot her on a mission. In the vision she saw herself training with a man, their fighting had been brutal and intense — and when the sun peaked through the morning clouds his metal arm had reflected the light. A year after the massacre of the other students, the Winter Soldier had been sent to train her. He stayed with the Red Room for a fourteen months before Hydra took him back and put him on ice again.

The vision brought back a lot of memories and Natasha felt conflicted on whether she should confess to Rogers or not. Whatever the man had saw had devastated him in a different way than she or Thor. He looked disturb but with a melancholy Steve usually kept better hidden from her and the others. There were only a few other times that Natasha saw him look that way; after he saw Bucky Barnes for the first time and whenever Sam came back with more dead ends. She didn't know where the man would be, but the information she did have she knew Steve would want to know.

Clint squeezed her shoulder and for once, Natasha let herself have a moments peace to herself.

_Later_.

She'd decide later what she'll do with Steve.

They were approaching the Quinjet, only half listening to the fighting between Tony and the Hulk. Something didn't feel right, the instinct settled in Natasha's gut as she felt Clint stiffen beside her — he felt it as well. Outside of the Quinjet they could see that a scuffle had happened, trees had been uprooted by the Hulk and led an open path toward the city. But door to the Quinjet was still wide open and the area was deathly silent. Natasha pushed pass Clint and stumbled up the ramp of the Quinjet.

"Macy?"

There was no reply and Natasha realised with dread.

Macy was gone.

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* * *

**Author's Note:**

Not my favourite chapter but alas, these chapters need to be written before we get to the good stuff. Thank you to all the new followers! I'm so happy with the response this piece has already gotten.

**Please leave a review and follow/favourite x**


	6. Chapter Five

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**Chapter Five**

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The One with Clint Barton's Homestead

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* * *

**Unknown**

4th October 2015

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"The news is _loving_ you guys."

Maria Hill's voice crackled through the comm link in the Quinjet; the Avenger's barely stirred. They'd been like this since Tony dragged Bruce back — dejected and broken.

"Nobody else is. There's been no official call for Banner's arrest... but it's in the air."

"The Stark Relief Foundation?" Tony asked.

"Already on the scene. How's the team?"

"Everyone's…" Tony paused, "We took a hit. We'll shake it off."

It was a hit he hadn't expected. They knew the Maximoff's were on the scene but the twins hit where it hurt the most, they used the Avenger's against themselves with a resourcefulness the Avenger's hadn't expected. The twins had been ready for them, but the Avenger's hadn't been ready for _them_.

Then there was the real kicker.

They took the kid.

Which left an empty space that Tony didn't realise would be there.

"Well, for now, I'd stay in stealth mode and stay away from here," Maria cautioned

"So run and hide?"

Tony was frustrated at the situation, but mostly he was angry at himself; this was exactly what he wanted to avoid.

"Until we can find Ultron I don't have a lot else to offer."

Tony sighed and turned to look at the others.

"Neither do we."

The team was fractured. It was like nothing he had ever seen before, no other mission — and they had seen plenty of horrible things — had left the team so hollow and hopeless. Tony remembered walking up the Quinjet's ramp to the distress of the other Avenger's.

_"Macy's gone."_

The words shocked Tony, it took him a few seconds longer to comprehend the depth of the words. They promised to each other that they would look after the kid until they figured something out. But if she was taken again it meant that they had failed her too.

_"The Maximoff's took her."_

They were the first and last words Bruce said since everything happened, the words worked in silencing them all. Since then, no one had said a word. Bruce, Steve, Thor and Natasha were all out of commission and it left Tony and Clint to silently pick up the pieces and figure out what was next. Which according to Maria Hill was hiding. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth but he didn't say anything. Instead, Tony turned the comm feed between them and Hill off for the moment and sighed. He just hoped that in the mean time they'd be able to figure everything out. But looking at the team, he felt a shadow of doubt.

Tony looked to Clint who had been flying the Quinjet for hours now.

In fact, Clint had taken the most control of the situation.

"Hey, you wanna switch out?" He asked.

"No, I'm good. If you wanna get some kip, now's a good time because we're still a few hours out."

Confused, Tony asked.

"Few hours from where?"

"A safe house."

Tony didn't know where this supposed safe house was but Clint and Natasha knew more about S.H.I.E.L.D. than he ever would. He clapped his hand against Clint's shoulder and turned back to where the others were. None of them were sleeping but none of them wanted to talk either. Tony hesitated at first but decided against speaking to any of them and settled on a side bunk away from the team. He knew there wasn't anything he could say that would make them feel better — _that_ was usually Steve's job and the captain looked far from giving an inspiration speech any time soon.

He eased his body onto the cot and smothered the groan of pain he felt. His body was a personal reminder not to get in a fight with the Hulk. Tony definitely needed the rest and he secretly appreciated that Clint was happy to sacrifice his own. Except when Tony closed his eyes he didn't find the peace he hoped for.

He saw the kid's face.

He remembered how broken she looked when Steve carried her out of the Hydra based. The outrage he felt at how such a tiny body could be so broken and bloody. It was an outraged matched by every other member of the team. Tony had just stared at the small body as she was laid on a cot in the Quinjet comatose. She was so small and thin — at first Tony thought she was dead. But she hadn't been, her bony chest moved up and down in uneven movements The bruises and cuts across her body reminded him of how he had crawled out of that cave in Afghanistan, how broken he'd been. Tony felt a shiver roll down his spine and he forced the memories away before they could take root.

But he couldn't shake Macy from his mind. She was a kid, this was the last place he wanted her - but the other's had won and she came with them.

Now she was gone.

It felt like only hours ago that Tony saw the wicked twinkle in her eyes when she lifted the coffee table with Thor's hammer. He smiled to himself when he saw the ice around her break even further. No kid deserved what she went through. She should be in school making friends, making a future for herself. But they brought her here, left her vulnerable to be taken once again.

That failure hurt more than Tony ever expected it to.

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* * *

**Missouri, USA**

5th October 2015

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The day had already broken by the time the Quinjet finally landed in an empty paddock. The other Avenger's were confused but Natasha knew exactly where they were. The Barton's farm was a place where she could shed her skin and leave it at the door. Natasha had spent most of her holiday time at the homestead with Clint and his family. There she wasn't Natasha Romanoff; the Black Widow. With Clint's family, she was just Auntie Nat. She wasn't an ex-assassin or S.H.I.E.L.D. agent — she was their family and they were hers. But this time she wasn't walking down the gravel path with a sense of peace.

Instead she walked beside Clint with his hand on her back, still harrowed by what she'd seen.

"What is this place?" Thor asked.

"Safe house," Tony answered.

If things were different Natasha might have snorted. For once, Tony didn't have all the answers and his realisation would have been amusing. Instead, all Natasha wanted was to retreat to the guest room and gather her composure where none of the other's could see. Clint opened the door and a part of her relaxed to be in a place that was familiar and full of memories that were happy… and were innocent. The interior was homely and as they walked further in the house and to the open living space, Natasha dodged Cooper and Lila's lego sets.

"Honey? I'm home."

Laura walked around the corner, her stomach had gotten drastically bigger since the last time Nat saw her.

"Hi," Clint said. "Company. Sorry, didn't call ahead."

"Hey," Laura smiled and kissed Clint.

Natasha would have smiled but she didn't have the heart to.

"This is an agent of some kind."

"Gentlemen, this is Laura," Clint introduced.

Laura smiled but Natasha could see that the other woman was nervous; Natasha didn't blame her.

"I know all of your names," Laura laughed awkwardly.

"_Ooh_, incoming."

_"Dad!"_

"Hi sweetheart! Hey buddy. How are you guys doing?"

Natasha chose to stand slightly away from the group, she watched with a small smile as Clint's children rushed to him and wrapped their small arms tightly around him in a group hug. They did this every time Clint came home, it was always bittersweet to watch but this time, after Wanda's vision, Natasha felt the pain more roughly. Another reminder of what she was forced to give up.

"These are smaller agents."

Natasha would have rolled her eyes if she had the energy.

"Did you bring Auntie Nat?" Lila asked.

She shook herself out of the pain, allowed a mask to fall into its place as she moved toward the little girl. For the kids, she'd pretend that everything was perfect, no mattered how much it hurt her.

"Why don't you hug her and find out?" Natasha teased.

Crouching, Natasha caught Lila as the little girl jumped into Nat's arms and lifted her up. Lila squeezed tightly and began to babble about her new colouring book and how she wanted Natasha to help her colour in one of the princesses. She was only half listening to the little girl, most of her attention was focused on the hug and how nice it felt. Natasha squeezed the little girl tighter but was conscious of how small her body was.

"Sorry for barging in on you," apologised Steve.

"Yeah, we would have called ahead but we were busy having no idea that you existed," Tony rebutted.

"Yeah, well, Fury helped me set this up when I joined. He kept it off S.H.I.E.K.D.'s files, I'd like to keep it that way."

"Go play," Nat whispered to Lila as she set the girl back on the ground.

"I figure it's a good place to lay low."

Laura had been trying to make eye contact with Natasha ever since she saw them, but Nat wasn't ready for the concern. Laura Barton was good at noticing when something was troubling someone, she was also good at figuring out what the problem might be. When she felt like she stable enough to seem at least, slightly okay, she walked over to Laura and hugged her with a small smile.

"I missed you. How's little Natasha, huh?"

"She's… _Nathaniel_."

Shocked, Natasha crouched toward Laura's stomach.

"Traitor," she whispered to the baby.

Not even the events of yesterday could stamp out the happiness she felt knowing her next nephew would be born soon.

"Sorry," Laura apologised with a small chuckle.

"It's fine. How are you all?"

"Good," Laura paused and quirked an eyebrow. "How have you been?"

There was a no nonsense tone to Laura's voice and it made a small smile quirk at Natasha's lips.

"I'll be okay."

_"Thor!"_

Natasha turned and watched as the god stalked away, Steve following after him until they were outside and no one in the house could see them. The rest of the Avengers stood awkwardly in their absence, Natasha's eyes flickered to Bruce and Tony who both looked exhausted from yesterday. Laura must have followed Natasha's eyes.

"Let me show you where you can freshen up."

The other's followed after Laura but Natasha stayed, she looked out the window and watched as Steve walked back to the Quinjet.

She knew she needed to tell him, he deserved to know.

But it meant opening a box that Natasha had shut a long time ago.

* * *

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* * *

**Moscow, Russia**

1999

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_"Again."_

_Natalia panted against the bar but straightened immediately at Madame B's words. If Madame B was unimpressed there was no room for disobedience. So the teenager straightened her legs and pointed her toes. She performed the series of moves Madama B had choreographed, a series of elegant and demanding motions that rubbed Natalia's heels raw. She'd be bleeding through her bandages again — she'd have to cut up another sheet to make up more. Her legs wobbled but she kept going, she pushed past the pain in her legs and kept dancing. Once the song came to an end, Natalia landed softly on her feet; toes still pointed._

_"Your Fouetté's are unimpressive. Twenty turns."_

_Natalia didn't react. _

_She did the turns._

_"Again."_

_Two hours passed before Madame B was pleased enough to let Natalia go. The linoleum floor was covered in her blood and her feet screamed as she walked out of the room. She felt Madame B's eyes on her the whole time but Natalia refused to limp, refused to show any ounce of pain as she walked. She took the stairs and ignored the other students as they passed her. She heard them whisper, they always whispered but she refused to speak to them. Natasha stopped talking to the other students a year ago after their cohort was reduced drastically— by her._

_Natalia tried not to think of that night and the two weeks that followed after._

_She learned the lesson Madame B wanted to teach her._

_There was no room for friends._

_Natalia reached the top of the stairs when she noticed the new commotion by the academy's front doors. She kept walking but continued to watch, her pace slower but not too obvious. Madame B's back was to her and the woman was surrounded by men. These men were trained soldiers, she could tell by how they were standing. But these men were inferior to the man that stood off to the side. He was as still as a statue and if it wasn't for the movement of his chest she would have thought he was one. He had dark long hair that hid his face but Natalia noticed the mask that covered his lower face. _

_Just before Natalia disappeared around the corner of a hallway, she noticed the silver sheen of the man's metal arm. The man looked dangerous, but a metal arm was something she was curious about. For a soldier to have such a weakness, it made her question why he would be here and what the Red Room wanted with him._

_She found out the next day._

_Natalia woke up at dawn and made her way down to the cafeteria where she ate at a table by herself. The entire room was silent, every girl ate in silence and did so quickly. The Red Room expected meals to be had quickly and for the rest of the day to be dedicated toward their studies. Natalia was half way through her small breakfast when Madame B approached her, Natasha recognised the woman's perfume before she heard Madame B speak._

_"Natalia."_

_Natalia pushed out from her seat and stood before Madame B with her head bowed._

_"Good morning, Madame."_

_"You're training starts now. Follow me."_

_"Yes, Madame." _

_Natalia quickly emptied her tray and followed after the woman. Madame B didn't lead Natalia to the usual room she trained in, they also passed the ballet room and walked outside. She braced herself for the cold and refused to let herself shiver when the frozen air brushed against her body. Madame B led them pass the main training court and target range until they arrived at a smaller court furthest away from the academy, yet closer to the woods. Their were four shapes in the distance and Natalia quickly deducted them as the men from yesterday. _

_In the middle of the court stood the man with the metal arm. _

_He stood just as still as he had yesterday when they approached. Madame B stopped them at one end of the court and Natalia didn't flinch when the woman's lips brushed her ears._

_"He is a terrifying monster is he not?"_

_Natalia didn't reply, she kept her eyes on the man._

_Yesterday she hadn't seen the full extent of man's arm. She could tell from how he stood that the arm was heavy, which meant it wasn't a hollow prosthetic. The soldier flexed the metal fingers so she knew it was mobile. It was a piece of machinery she had never seen before._

_"They call him the Winter Soldier." Madame B continued, "He is credited with over 100 assassinations. No one has bested him in a fight. A cold-blooded killer."_

_Madame B pushed Natalia's red head behind the girl's ear._

_"You will fight him. And you will be his next mission."_

_His next hit she meant._

_Madame B moved away and Natalia knew that was the sign that the fight had began. The soldier's handlers moved away and joined Madame B behind Natalia, she could feel the heat of their eyes on her. No one moved. The Winter Soldier watched Natalia and she watched him. He was bigger than she was and from what she could tell, he was more than likely stronger than her. She moved toward him slowly and moved to until they both circled each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Natalia noticed how the Winter Soldier put more weight on his right leg to support the weight of his left arm. If she took out his right leg, it would throw the man's balance._

_He must have got tired of her waiting because he broke their stand off. The Winter Soldier swung out with his metal fist and Natalia fell back and dodge the attack, she took note that the delivery of the fist was slightly slower than if it were an arm off flesh but he made up for it by following his first strike with another, the opposite arm this time. This time Natalia ducked and rolled, she came out behind the Winter Soldier and gave a quick punch into the back of the Winter Soldier's right knee. It buckled and the soldier was forced to brace himself with his right arm._

_Taking the advantage she grabbed the metal arm and twisted it behind the soldier's back. She kept pushing, she wanted to test the arm, to see if she could break it at the joint. But the arm didn't budge, neither did the soldier call out in pain. Natalia realised too late that the soldier let her test the arm, allowed her to come to her own conclusion; he played with her. With a lurch the metal hand twisted and grabbed hold of Natalia's wrist and pulled. She felt her arm pop as the soldier used its strength to throw her over his shoulder and to the ground. _

_Natalia bit down on the flare of pain._

_If she made a noise Madame B would be angry and Natalia would be punished; if she survived._

_She expected the soldier to strike but instead he looked over to his keepers and Natalia took the advantage. The Winter Soldier might think her a weak girl not worth the fight, but Natalia was resourceful and she wouldn't die without a fight. She reached into her boot where she kept a dagger hidden at all times and slashed it into his right Achilles tendon. A brutal grown ripped from the soldier's throat and this time she really brought him to the ground. Quick to get to her feet, Natalia jumped back just before the soldier struck out blindly with his metal arm. She poped her arm back into place and recalculated what she would do next._

_The cut she made hadn't been deep enough for serious damage but she achieved in throwing off the soldier's balance. He stumbled to his feet, putting little pressure on his damaged ankle. She knew he was in pain but the soldier didn't show it. He knew like her that you didn't show your opponent your pain, maybe even better than she did. Natalia twirled the dagger in her hand to hold it in a better grip. Her arm throbbed painfully but thankfully she trained with both hands. She saw as a small flicker of pain flared in the soldier's eyes as he took a step and she struck._

_She ran at the Winter Soldier with the knife extended, an extension of her arm — of herself. She aimed for his throat but he used his metal hand to block the attack. The shock vibrated through her arm but she ignored it and spun aiming to stab his other shoulder. The knife sunk into his flesh but the soldier didn't flinch, instead his metal fist connected with her ribs and Natalia gasped. She fell back, letting go of the knife in his shoulder and tried to catch her breath. She was winded but she couldn't let that stop her, if she stopped she'd die._

_The Winter Soldier took the knife out of his shoulder and threw it to the ground behind him. There was something different in his eyes, a small look of respect but something else hid there in his blue eyes. He charged at her and Natalia went on the defence as she caught her breath. She rolled, ducked and blocked his attacks. She was wary that he might be trying to tire her out and she was aware that his plan was working. He tried to kick her legs from beneath her but she moved backwards, then threw a punch. Except this one didn't land, he'd expected it and caught it. Natalia threw her other fist and he caught that as well and began to squeeze. She felt her bones creak in his hold and Natalia was running out of ideas._

_With one last attempt she kicked her leg up and over his shoulder, using the momentum to throw her other but before she could wrapped both her legs around his neck and strangle him, the Winter Soldier let go of her hands and grabbed her leg. _

_She'd been too slow._

_Her ribs ached but they screamed when her body was thrown into the ground. Natalia tried to lift herself off the floor but she was too slow. The Winter Soldier turner her onto her back by her hair. She scratched at his hands, her nails collected his skin and blood. But her grip loosened once he slammed her head into the ground, then again — then one last time. Natalia coughed and felt blood speckle across her chin. The Winter Soldier used one hand to strangle her, his one hand — the metal one — incased her neck easily. This was how she died — she'd be returned to her friends. _

_Natalia choked on air and looked at her killer. _

_But when her eyes met his, he looked away and tightened his grip._

_He wanted it over with._

_"Стоп!"_

_He stopped. _

_Natalia gasped for air and watched as the soldier moved and stood above her. _

_"приди, солдат," one of the men called._

_The soldier obeyed and walked to his handlers._

_Natalia didn't watch, she stared at the grey sky and tried to recover her breath. Her head was dizzy, she would pass out soon if she wasn't treated. _

_A shadow fell over her and Madame B's scowling face came into view._

_"Pathetic," she sneered. _

_Natalia slowly got to her feet, her world rotating around her._

_"You'll train with the monster. Every day and night — until you are better."_

_"Yes, Madame," she slurred._

_"Clean up. You begin tonight."_

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**Missouri, USA**

5th October 2015

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Natasha's hand ran through her short hair and touched the thin scars that littered the back of her skull. Softly like a poet's hand, her finger's traced down the side of her neck, then her breasts until they tapped against her lower abdomen where a space inside her was empty.

The Winter Soldier… the man she killed in order to graduate… her friends… they all haunted Nat; rested in the darkest places inside of her. Memories that would live on through her no matter what she did to try making things better — to make herself better. These memories hurt, but she didn't grieve for them like she grieved the choice taken from her.

It made her selfish, that she let herself hide all of the horrors because of one.

But Natasha never thought she'd be anything else beside what they made her. There was no part of her that thought one day she'd have a life of her own. Until Clint — until Fury. They gave her a new life that didn't seem real, that only started to become reality until years passed. It really hit when Natasha met Laura and realised what she could have, that it was possible to have a family and do what they do. The realisation almost broke her, being sterile was easier to ignore when the possibility wasn't possible anyway. But the impossibility became more permanent; more real.

It hurt too much to try.

So she didn't.

She fell further into the work.

Natasha blinked back the tears and pulled Laura's robe tighter around her, the fluffy material was like a blanket that dropped to her feet. It was soothing, but Natasha still felt uncomfortable in her own skin. So she fidgeted with the robe's tie while she waited.

The shower was still running which meant Steve was still in the bathroom.

After a lot of thinking, she finally came to a decision.

Natasha knew how lost she'd be if she didn't have Clint. Not only had he shown her that she deserved a better life and that it was achievable, but he has had her back more times than she could count; on mission and off. Steve Roger thought he lost the one person who had always had his back, now he knew that very person was out there somewhere. More than likely just as lost and confused as he'd been. If their roles were reversed, she'd want to know everything — no matter how small or big.

The shower switched off and Natasha prepared herself.

After a few minutes Steve left the bathroom, he changed in the bathroom into a grey shirt and blue jeans from his go bag. He stopped in the doorway and she remembered a similar scene in Sam Wilson's house.

"We've got to stop meeting like this."

"_Natasha_."

It was daunting that Steve Roger's saw her easier now — almost on par with Clint; but not exactly, at least not yet.

"_Steve_," she mimicked back. "I hope there's hot water left."

"I'm sure you'll make do."

"Ouch Rogers —"

"Nat," he interrupted and the nickname made her stop. "How're you doing?"

"As good as you, I expect."

"So not great," Steve sighed and sat next to her on the double sized bed.

"Maybe a little worse."

She could see from the corner of her eye as Steve turned his head to look at her. She didn't meet his eyes, if she did there was no promise she'd follow through with what she set out to do.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

For a second Natasha thought about telling Steve everything. He was her friend, after a long time of ignoring the fact that he was. Natasha didn't want the possibility of Steve looking at her differently once he knew. There was a lot about her that they didn't know, that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files had no depiction of. Steve would either be repulsed by the things she'd done or he'd be sympathetic — pity her — and Natasha couldn't deal with either.

"No. But there is something you should know."

She looked at Steve and watched the confusion flicker across his face until the lines smoothed out. He met her eyes but said nothing, he was waiting for her and she appreciated the calm of his silence. Nat didn't look away, she took strength from the solidness of his presence, the calm understanding of his eyes.

"I had this, um, dream. The kind that seems normal at the time, but when you wake…"

"What dream?" Steve asked softly.

"That I was an Avenger—"

_"You are."_

"— that I was anything more than the assassin they made me."

"You didn't have a choice, Natasha. You've always been more than what they tried to make you," he stressed and it made her lips quirk upwards for a quick moment.

"Steve," she sighed. "There's a lot you don't know about what I've done."

"I don't know what you've done before — but I know what you've done now and that's all that matters."

It was relief to hear the words from his lips, to know how he felt and in turn confirm that she was doing the right thing. Barnes deserved the chance to have someone save him like Clint saved her — and Steve Rogers deserved to have his friend back.

"In the Red Room, where I was raised… where I was trained," she started with a shaky breath. "There were trials, some worse than others. Two years before my graduation my superiors organised for me to be trained by another Soviet asset."

Her eyes flickered to Steve's.

"The Winter Soldier."

_"Bucky?"_

She nodded.

Steve was shocked and she could see the pain in his eyes. He ran a hand through his blood hair, the damp locks flicked droplets of water onto his shoulders. Natasha sat still while she waited for Steve to come to terms with what she said.

"He… he trained you?"

She nodded her head in response.

"_When?_" The question fell from his lips as a breathless whisper.

"1997. For a year, then he was put back into a cryogenic sleep."

Steve looked pale, undoubtedly he was thinking about the horrors his friend underwent from Hydra. She physically saw him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to hydrate the dryness of his throat.

"Did he…" He stuttered over his words, "Did he remember me?"

The question was so quiet and sad that it felt like a physical blow to her stomach to admit the truth.

"No. At least, not exactly. There were times where he was… more human. But they were quick to erase his memories when they found out."

Natasha noticed the tears that welled in Steve's eyes before he clenched them shut. She wrapped her arms around her and let Steve have his moment. It wasn't much, Natasha had kept an eye on the Winter Soldier's movements when active but there wasn't a lot that knew about the man who was buried beneath. There were times when Natasha would see glimpses of a man, but nothing like the history books depicted. Barnes' blue eyes had always been haunted and clouded with confusion, she'd seen James but never the Bucky that Steve remembered so fondly. After a moment Steve opened his eyes and Natasha continued.

"I don't know where he is, I wish I knew more. But if I were Barnes, and I remembered you, I would be far away from wherever you are."

Natasha paused.

"I hope you find him, I really do."

Steve nodded his head silently, so Natasha stood and felt her bones protests in response. She step around Steve and before she left, she squeezed his shoulder. Before she could open the bathroom door Steve's voice stopped her.

"Thank you — for telling me."

She smiled weakly and nodded.

When the bathroom door was closed behind her, Natasha let the robe slip from her shoulders and turned the shower on. Once she was under the heavy stream of lukewarm water, Natasha let the first silent tear slipped down her cheek.

* * *

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* * *

_Seems like you walked away alright._

Steve had wandered back inside the house after he finished with Tony's pile of wood. There was a little truth to what the other man had said. It seemed he had faired better than his fellow teammates. Bruce, had kept to himself all day and was only a fifth of himself since the Maximoff girl. Thor had left with no word about what he was planning to do and Steve felt the other man's absence like a punch in the gut. The team was vulnerable and for the god to leave, it was just another blow and reminder that they were falling apart… and Natasha? Natasha had been shaken so terribly and had shown more emotion Steve had ever seen from her. Then there was what she told him and Steve felt rattled.

For months, he and Sam had been searching for Bucky with every lead they had becoming a dead end. Steve had tried to keep hope but surely it had begun to waver and each day that something came to nothing, Steve felt the hollowness inside of him grow. He missed the life he lost, a life the war had taken from him. It hurt more knowing that both Peggy and Bucky were alive but so far away — time had taken Peggy from him and Hydra had taken Bucky. There was so much between them and Steve couldn't break through it all. When Natasha told him that Bucky trained her, he clung to the new information. There was so much that he didn't know and there was so much he wanted to.

He wasn't oblivious.

He understood that there were things that Bucky has done that weren't good, that there would be a long road ahead of them. But he looked at Natasha and he saw what Bucky could become. Natasha had turned her life around despite the horrors and brainwashing of her handlers. She was an Avenger — a person who helped protect people who couldn't protect themselves. It was what Bucky used to be, there were so many times when Bucky had pulled Steve from a fight before it went too far. It was what he could be again — Steve knew it, he believed in it wholeheartedly.

The front door downstairs shut with a click and with Steve's enhanced hearing he listened as footsteps crept up the stairs. The super-solider sighed and ran a hand down his face. The house was small and there were only a few places to creep away for solace. Steve was about to leave the room when the door opened, he stopped in shock at the person he stood before him.

"Rogers."

"Fury."

The older man strolled into the room but not before shutting the door behind him.

"Things are pretty bad right now, the whole world is talking."

"That's putting it lightly," Steve huffed.

He watched as Fury moved and stood by the window, the man peered and looked out across the front yard of the house.

"Did I ever tell you that you remind me of an old friend of mine?"

Steve raised an eyebrow.

"They were lost, like you. Trying to find out who they are and stop a war all at once — trying to save the world." Fury chuckled to himself, "And stubborn. Extremely stubborn."

Steve couldn't help his lips from quirking upwards.

"When everything unravelled and the mission no longer made sense. We reevaluated, came together and got the job done."

"The team's broken Nick," Steve sighed.

"It doesn't have to be. The Maximoff girl did a number on all of you — but she doesn't have to win."

Clint's kids laughed loudly outside and Steve watched the frown deepen on Fury's face.

"I heard about the girl."

Macy Gibson.

Since arriving at the farm the girl had been at the back of all their minds. Doubt and concern for what happened to — whether she was safe or not. Ultron's problem was with the Avenger's, not an innocent girl. Besides, Natasha made the point that the Maximoff's wouldn't let Ultron hurt her since they went to the trouble of taking her — and that was assuming she hadn't gone with the twins willing. The conversation ended there and the Quinjet flight was silent the rest of the journey. But the thought was troubling still to Steve and he knew the rest of the team had their own respective concerns. They were meant to protect and Steve felt that failure sitting on his stomach heavily.

"Did you speak to Natasha?"

"No," Fury paused momentarily. "Not yet. Maria Hill told me."

Steve nodded his head, he wasn't surprised by that. Even though S.H.I.E.L.D. had fallen Maria was still aligned with her former boss, the kind of loyalty that Steve couldn't help respect.

"She's gone," Steve sighed, the guilt twisted in his gut.

"That's it? You're giving up."

Steve didn't stay anything, Fury's words were a punch to the gut.

"There's a girl out there that needs help. The Avengers can help her."

Steve looked down at his hands, they were clenched. "We can't help her like this."

"Then walk your ass down those stairs and fix it."

Steve gritted his teeth but before he could reply there was a light knock at the door, it opened slightly and Clint's wife Laura smiled uncomfortable through the gap.

"Dinner's ready if you're hungry."

She didn't linger but the tension disappeared once she left. Fury sighed and shook his head, his eyes met Steve's one last time before he left the room.

"This conversation isn't finished."

Fury walked out and Steve was left with a mix of emotions that rolled in his empty stomach. They couldn't give up, not with Ultron out there and Macy caught in the robot's clutches. But Steve had no idea how to put the team back together and they couldn't beat Ultron without the team being… well, _a team_. But Fury had struck a cord, as soon as the man left and Steve was left to himself and his own thoughts, he saw the girl that they failed. She was starting to look better, there was a life in her eyes that had been missing when they first saw her. But now she was at the mercy of a sadistic robot who wanted to destroy them. The Maximoff's might think they knew what they're doing but they were just kids too — if Ultron turned on them all they'd be overwhelmed easily.

God, Macy hadn't wanted to come but they made her. _What had they been thinking?_

When Steve finally collected himself to walk downstairs to the living room, all of the Avengers were already, at least everyone except Thor — the god still hadn't returned. Clint was helping Laura dish the food, while Natasha helped the kids set the table. It was a nice scene that would have felt nicer if there wasn't a cloud hanging above all their heads. Steve moved to stand with Tony and Bruce, both who looked just as awkward as Steve felt. Steve watched as Clint ruffled his son's hair and another stab of guilt pierced him. Macy would have been that old when Hydra took her and murdered her parents. No kid deserved that — this was what they deserved; a family and happiness.

_They had to get her back._

The thought zapped life into Steve, there was a determination that hadn't been there before. Whether the team pulled through or not, Steve wasn't going to let the kid befall to more terrors. He would get her back and then they would figure something out, Fury might know what they could do.

Dinner passed quickly and quietly. The kids chattered to their father and aunt, obviously having missed the two spies. But once dinner was done Laura shared a look with Clint and wrangled the children upstairs and to bed. With their departure the reality settled in and every one of them was aware that they needed to talk. Spread out across the open living area, the members of the Avengers distracted themselves. Bruce was huddled in the back corner of the kitchen and Natasha sat at the kitchen table with a distant look in her eyes. Tony was playing darts and Clint was picking up toys scattered on the floor.

No one knew how to begin.

Steve stood off from the kitchen, leaning against the wall with his lips pursed and his mind raking over what to say. Before he could muster something Fury bet him to it and inwardly Steve sighed with relief.

"Ultron took you folks out of play to buy himself time," Fury said, pausing as he placed a cup in the kitchen sink. "My contacts all say he's building something. The amount of Vibranium he made off with, I don't think it's just one thing."

"What about Ultron himself?" Steve interjected.

"_Ah_. He's easy to track, he's everywhere. Guy's multiplying faster than a Catholic rabbit. Still doesn't help us get an angle on any of his plans though."

"He still going after launch codes?" Tony asked.

The genius didn't look at either of them as he spoke, instead his chocolate brown eyes were focused on the dart board. He was distracting himself, but also was trying not to look as concerned or interested in the conversation. Tony blamed himself and Steve couldn't say there wasn't a part of him that didn't believe it too.

"Yes, he is, but he's not making any headway."

"I cracked the Pentagon's firewall in high school on a dare," Tony raised an eyebrow as he spoke — a tone of disbelief in his voice.

"Yeah, well, I contacted our friends at the NEXUS about that."

"NEXUS?" Steve asked, unsure what it stood for.

Three years since he'd been found and there were still so many things he didn't know about the new world.

"Its the world internet hub in Oslo, every byte of data flows through there, fastest access on Earth," Bruce answered softly, his voice so quiet that Steve almost didn't catch what he said.

"So what'd they say?" Clint chimed in.

"He's fixated on the missiles, but the codes are constantly being changed."

"By whom?" Tony questioned by the dart board, barely moving out of the way as Clint's two darts hit the bullseye.

"Parties unknown."

For the first time Natasha joined the conversation and asked, "Do we have an ally?"

An ally would be nice but Steve doubted it. There were too many people with their own agendas, even his teammates felt the need to go outside the circle of trust Steve thought they built.

"Ultron's got an enemy, _that's_ _not_ the same thing. Still, I'd pay folding money to know who it is."

"I might need to visit Oslo. Find our unknown," Tony murmered.

"Well, this is good times, boss. But I was kind of hoping when I saw you, you'd have more than that."

Natasha's quip was what everyone was thinking. Fury's information wasn't a lot to go off. Plus, there was still the concerning matter of Macy. Steve knew in particular Natasha had taken a small shine to the girl, he'd have to be an idiot to no recognise there was a familiarity of situation between them. There was also the fact that consistently haunted Steve, that like Bucky, Macy's life had been ruined by Hydra.

"I do," the earnest in Fury's voice pulled back Steve's attention. "I have you."

The Avengers looked at each other. Steve realised it was the first time they were all in the same room together since the morning, each member now stood around the dining table and faced their old director.

"Back in the day I had eyes everywhere. Ears everywhere else. You kids had all the tech you could dream up."

Fury moved further toward the group as he kept talking.

"Here we all are, back on Earth with nothing but our wit and our will to save the world."

Ultron says the Avengers are the only thing between him and his mission. And whether or not he admits it, his mission is global destruction. All this, laid in a grave."

Steve saw how uncomfortable looks passed across both Natasha and Clint's faces.

Sitting down, Fury ended his speech with: "So stand. Outwit the platinum bastard."

"Steve doesn't like that kind of talk,"Natasha teased.

"You know what, Romanoff?"

She smirked back at him and a lightness saturated the air. It was what they needed, a semblance of normality after everything had been so royally twisted and destroyed. Steve was their leader but there was only so much he could do to reign everyone in, especially when he felt his own mentality fractured by Wanda Maximoff. They needed someone to remind them of who they are, to show them what really mattered.

"So what does he want?" Fury asked.

It was all it took to make the gears in their minds work again.

"To become better. Better than us. He keeps building bodies." Steve thought outloud.

"Person bodies." Tony interjected before continuing his thought process, "The human form is inefficient. Biological speaking, we're outmoded. But he keeps coming back to it."

"When you two programmed him to protect the human race, you amazingly failed," Natasha drawled.

"They don't need to be protected… They need to evolve. Ultron's going to evolve," Bruce concluded in a whisper.

"How?" Fury asked.

The Avenger's eyes locked and spoke one word together.

_"Macy."_

"He knew we wouldn't leave her," Natasha whispered with horror.

"And he betted on the Maximoff's feelings — he knew that they would either take her or she'd go with them willingly," Clint sighed.

Anger flared inside of Steve, "The Maximoff's evolved because of Macy. How didn't we realise this?"

"Because — _she's a kid_," Tony stressed. "She's not the sole answer to human evolution. It's just a mutation of her genes and their are hundred of mutants like her out there hiding. She can't just make whole bodies from her…"

Tony cut off by his own thoughts, looked over at Bruce as the two genius' came to another conclusion.

"Has anyone been in contact with Helen Cho?"

The room went deathly silent.

* * *

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**Author's Note:**

The continuing support for this story drive my motivation to write so much. I'm so in love with you guys, I know these chapters can be pretty boring because it's very heavy with following the movies but there's probably only three or four chapter's left of AoU, so Peter will definitely be in around chapter ten I'm thinking so far. Then things will be slightly AU from there.

With saying that, I do not own any of the dialogue taken from the movies.

**Translations:**

_Стоп = stop_

_приди, солдат = come, soldier_

**Reviews:**

**Guest: **Thank you so much! Macy will definitely have some big development to come as a character as this fic progresses. She's definitely overwhelmed right now and confused so her personality will form with the story as she overcomes her own demons.

**April2016:** Thank you! You have no idea how amazed I was to read your reviews! You're fics are amazing and this is a bit of a fan girl situation right now! I hope you keep enjoying the story!

**Please leave a review and follow/favourite x**


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